These are hedonist times.

Whew, it has been busy in these parts. We’ve had family and friends visiting, which is fantastic.  We’re got more family on the way, which is fantastic. It was Dan’s 30th birthday, which was extra fantastic. Oh, and we had this little typhoon last night. No big deal.

There has been some of this:

A lot of this:

(Please notice the sign over the beer kegs says, “Please help yourself!”)

And even a little bit of this:

I am amused that this purikura (sticker picture) makes us look so hip. This booth not only makes your eyes bigger, but plumps your lips, too.

We also found a bar with a pass-through window in the floor — I was handed our drinks from the bartender below just minutes before another customer took a tumble through the rabbit hole and onto the bartop.  Exciting stuff.

Through the winding streets of Golden Gai we found Jete. It was so hip, I felt lame taking my camera out once we were inside.

Seeing Tokyo through the fresh eyes of our visitors has been … well, fantastic.


I like to cheer for the smaller guy and to point out when someone is exceptionally hairy. I love the way sumo is steeped in tradition, with song and pomp and a whole lot of belly slapping.





I also love it when they tumble. Sometimes they even bounce a little.

Mothra on my mind


Ang:  Dan, this photo looks like Mothra! Will you help me think of a funny caption?

Dan:  How about something to do with the end of summer…

Ang:  It’s amazing, it really looks like Mothra!

Dan:  Or how the cicada –

Ang:  Mothra!

Dan:  Call it your pet, since you can’t have a dog…

Ang:  Maaawthraa!

Dan:  Shouting Mothra isn’t helping.

Ang:  Mothra.

Dan: …

Ang:  Did you know Mothra’s a good guy?

Dan: I’m going to –

Ang:  Mothra!!

Dan:  bed.

I Can Learn to Love Again: A Crochet Story

My friend from the States (featured here and here) is a crafter, but in a very different way than me.  She loves pretty things and is an ace with a crochet hook (whereas I prefer to stab at things, have never crocheted or made anything remotely wearable, and sometimes I like ugly things). When she visited Tokyo, we found this book:

I begged my friend to buy it — not because I like doilies (actually, I sort of hate doilies), but because 1. it’s a beautiful example of a Japanese craft book and I wanted to share it with you, and 2. if you could bundle my friend’s personality into a book, it might be this book, all flowers and peachy-pink and cashmere yarn. It was meant to be.

My initial unlove for doilies was because they didn’t fulfill my first rule of craft: the things you make should be useful or contribute to the beauty of a useful item. Because seriously, what do you do with a doily?

Apparently you can do a lot of things:

I love that book cover. Psst — hey friend, hint hint. I love that book cover.

I challenged her to finish a doily before she left. She put my challenge to shame and made two. Show off.

She offered to make me one, so I chose the triangle doily. And I love it.

It turns out my new doily is lazy. It lounged on the couch for a week after my friend left. It was being a total couch potato doily. Maybe it was sad to see my friend leave. Or maybe it’s an inanimate object and I need to get some fresh air.

After finding this image,  I’m thinking the doily found a new home. Doily, your purpose in life is clear. You are welcome to stay, as I bind you in chain stitch to my couch.

Image from Apartment Therapy