Weather indicative of mood

As you might have noticed, we seem to have some good days, and some not so good days. The good days usually link in with sunshine, exercise, good sleep, a poo and lots of nice food (who would have thought) – for all of us.

The not so good days – the opposite happens. Yesterday, the weather was so bitingly Kyneton-bitter, that it felt like a not very good day at all. Viv was miserable for whatever reason (read above), and I was miserable due to the wind tearing my skin to shreds within minutes. It was so extreme that by the time we ventured home I couldn't bend my legs because the texture of my jeans was torture. Remember that time that you went to the beach and thought 'it's ok, I can probably just walk back to the house/far away car/train station in my wet bathers' and you were WRONG because of the SAND and the DAMP and ALL THE CHAFING?! Translate that into wind rash and you'll get it. If you've never had wind burn or walked home with that excrutiating holiday sand-chafe then I can't help you, and you should probably go and experience some other outdoors climates.

Oh the backs of my knees. I feel very sorry for Kent, because I now realise he was there too and had to manage both the whingers (which of course he did with grace and patience).

Yesterday started off so sweetly. It marked the day where many of Viv's buddies had their first day of Kinder, which we enjoyed looking at through facebook. We managed to convince Viv that you're not actually allowed to go to Kinder unless you use the toilet, and the instantaneous success was greatly satisfying. Unfortunately as soon as he'd weed in the toilet he barrelled out (pants free), exclaiming 'So I shall go to Kinder with Frankie now? But after the playground.'

Yesterday, we ventured out to Kiyosumi Shirakawa on the promise of culture and tradition mixed with industrial buildings now housing sexy coffee shops. We were met with this incredible garden, the cruelest wind I have ever experienced (and I live in Kyneton) and the nastiest behaviour from Viv I have had the displeasure of managing in public. Thank god Kent was there, so after tantrum #46, we pretended Viv wasn't. Our first stop was Iki espresso, which I will gladly and blatantly promote, after their incredible tolerance of tantrums #47 through to #52 – their coffee was incredible, almost as incredible as their cinnamon brioche scroll that was the epitome of soft, doughy, sticky happiness. They had undeserved babycinos on the menu (the first that we've seen here) – and the man running the place was delightfully patient, friendly and kind. It did say 'great coffee, beautiful food, friendly people' on the door, but you never really know if they are telling the truth. We'll be back there for sure. To the rest of the peaceful dwellers of that space, on behalf of my family, I am truly, truly sorry.

The delightful Kiyosumi Gardens, a rambling, rocky walk with some of Japan's best signature style lack of any safety barriers whatsoever.  There was a lot of stepping stone bridges, skinny rock bridges, arched mossy bridges; all encouraging of you to walk their precarious path, with no promise of saving you should you fall into the lake. I discovered I am nervous on bridges, especially on windy days.

Sadly for the effect of my story, Viv just looks tragic here, instead of one of those nasty toddlers you see on the train that have OBVIOUSLY been given red lollies by a relative. But I swear, he was behaving just like one of the nasty ones. Again, looking back, I do just feel sorry for him. The poor kid has more teeth coming in, when you ask him what he's sad about he says he doesn't know (heartbreaking) and it was absolutely fucking freezing. 

But also really beautiful. I'm sure we were there in the 'worst' season (well, it felt terrible), but I really enjoyed seeing it so dry and barren, because it felt like that's what it would look like in an Australian summer. Now that Kent and I have our own garden, it's so inspiring seeing how the Japanese work with plants and landscaping, so we've been taking note and oh my god I've become one of those people that talks about landscaping. And I'm not even 30 yet! Shit, look out, I'll be talking about taps and tile selection before you know it. 

I'm not sure what that building in the background is, but for some reason it fascinated me. I think this was a highlight of being in this garden – they are everywhere in Kyoto, but they feel a little fewer and far between in built up Tokyo. There is something really special about being in a little quiet sanctuary of nature, and looking up to see hig-hrises and skyscrapers across the horizon. 

Me through gritted teeth: 'Stay still Vivi, I didn't bring you any spare clothes should you fall in.' I am also holding onto the hood of his puffy for dear life, while quietly shitting myself that I might also fall in.

The best/worst slide of all! Best, because LOOK at it. It's hilarious! And worst because if Viv was any heavier, I could envision him breaking his legs on this thing. It's so short and steep that he just ended up landing on his feet standing up. 

We went to a delightful little cafe for lunch that was marked on a tourist map of the area and discovered that all they served was sweet (delicious, syrupy, fruity) pancakes. The owners seemed so lovely, I found myself standing there trying to will myself to want dessert pancakes for lunch not just for myself, but also the 2 year old. I couldn't do it, even in my pregnant state. Embarrassed, I told the owner that we were after lunch, and he responded with 'Ah!' and scuttled off to a table nearby filled with what I presumed were lunch menus. He then pulled out a map, saying 'go here! Very popular!' and sent us off to an upstairs cafe around the corner that we never would have found otherwise. Bless. 

At least it's not a tantrum I guess.

A rare moment of camaraderie ...

Before getting whacked again. This kid is a fucking nightmare sometimes. Anyway. The meal was abundant and delicious.

One of the delightful streetscapes of Kiyosumi Shirakawa.

This was not delightful, but a cultural experience, I suppose, in a way.

By this stage I was starting to ache, I wanted a coffee experience that didn't involve screaming, hitting or crying (from any of us). Blue Bottle (pictured above) seems to be a hip coffee venture from California that is spreading it's pretentious seed through Tokyo and beyond. The staff are absolutely lovely, the product is totally fine, dare I say delicious enough, but the fucking FUSS about it all? I know, I KNOW I am a coffee wanker, it is my current daily priority – but this?! THIS?! This is silly. We went to order, discovered coffee was going to be about $6 each. Deep breaths. Fine. 'Choose your blend' he said. 'Sure', I said. I chose 'blend'. Mostly because I don't give a shit, and single origin was going to cost extra. 'Oh.' He said. 'Blend will take 10-15 minutes, ok?' No. 'Let's go somewhere else' I said. 'Let's just pay the extra and have it now' Kent said (with that desperate look of a man who can feel that either his wife or his child is going to implode at any minute, quite possibly at the same time). 

About $15 and 15-20 minutes later, Kent returned to our irritatingly uncomfortable stools (clearly designed for neat and tight little Japanese bums, not my ever expanding, pregnant pastry-eating western bum) with PERFECTLY NORMAL COFFEE. No sparkles. No orgasms. No incredible instantaneous insights of power and/or wisdom. I would be less indignant, but in my pregnant (and let's be honest, pretty much unemployed) state, 1-2 coffees a day is all I can do, and by now they were all used up!!! On a sunny, crisp day, this would have been annoying, but on a day such as today it was devastating. I think my pregnancy hormones are really screwing things up. At least I didn't cry this time. 

Kyneton locals might feel right at home here – this is reminiscent of the frankly terrifying scarecrow competition that Kyneton holds annually (I think for the show? Anyone remember why the hell we do this?). I would have enjoyed a 360º shot to capture the almighty butt-scrotum this thing was sporting from behind.

Another mighty example of a little run down shack, quite literally gaffa taped together, seemingly held up by the surrounding newer buildings.

We spent the rest of the afternoon moseying along the streets of Kiyosumi, but it seemed as if the town was in shut down mode (maybe it was too windy for everyone?) so many of the galleries and shops we hoped to explore became invisible behind closed roller doors, and as it became increasingly biting, we threw in the towel and went home early. Which, as usual, in retrospect ended up being for the best – the three of us chilled out in jammies on our bed, reading/playing phone games while eating toast and drinking hot chocolate – something we haven't really done a whole lot of since being here. An art festival is launching in the area next week, so weather depending (!!!) we're planning on going back for round 2 – we owe Iki Espresso an apology anyway. And I need more cinnamon scrolls.

Just an example of some of the extremely snazzy things I am doing by cutting up onigiri (rice balls) from 7/11 and arranging it attractively on a plate. Look out Kyneton. I'm getting all sorts of ideas.

I'm about to get a bit domestic, so skip ahead for a while if you want to skip this – this section is mainly for my mum. I finally cracked the shits and CLEANED – Mum, I even got out the vacuum cleaner!* I'm not sure if I've mentioned it, but at about 9ish every night, I hear a funny scrapey noise near the fridge, that sounds an awful lot like some kind of vermin. It is probably not vermin, but I am a creative soul at heart, and now tell the rat to shut the fuck up most nights, while quietly panicking that a family of racoons has made a home in my pile of clothes at the end of the bed. So when Kent suggested that this morning he take Viv out to the playground early, I gallantly volunteered to stay home and clean up the place.

Before shot. Please don't let the panorama shot fool you into thinking this little room is spacious. Behind me is what my friend referred to as an 'airplane toilet' (the bathroom/laundry), and the bedroom where Viv sleeps.

During shot. All items are thrown on bed or table for vacuuming. 

After shot. In effect, I am a magical pixie. In case you are thinking that I made more mess in the kitchen, I didn't, I just washed all the dishes, and that is the only space to leave them to dry. 

Because even though I said not to, I know you are all fooled by the panoramic shot. This is taken with my back pressed up against the fridge.

While I was looking for the clothes hanger (read: 30 x 30cm plastic square with dangly pegs), I was slightly devastated to find this storage under Viv's bed. This might have been a better solution than using the end of the bed to store all of his clothes and half of mine and Kent's. I am too indignant (lazy) to start now.

Obligatory preggo shot for the folks at home without social media – yep. I'm still only 27 weeks, and if I hear one more gag about twins, you're in it for a teste/tit-punch. You have been warned.

Viv somehow surviving without his mother at the playground.

Viv posing for his Famous Five cover shot. I can see it now: 'Five go to Another Fucking Playground.'

Today was a better day than yesterday. Jubilant with not having to prepare Vivian breakfast and the thrill of knowing that deep down I can clean if I really need to (it's not really my section though), I felt energised at venturing out to explore busy Harajuku, Jingumae and Omotesando – great areas in Tokyo popular for shopping, coffee drinking and eating. Kent cleaned up nicely last time we were here in the vintage clothing shops, and we put aside some time to go exploring today. For some weird reason, old ladies are totally taken with Viv and continually give him presents, which puts everyone in a good mood (except me, because now he is starting to expect them).

Clutching present #1 of the day – an old lady on the train gave him this sweet before she got off. Somehow we managed to convince Viv it wasn't an eating treat, but a special treat to 'rustle', encouraging him to crackle the wrapper for the rest of the journey. 

About as close to hand-holding affection as Viv gets – this needed to be captured. 

Another coffee at the beautiful Shozo coffee stand in Omotesando. 

Small gestures like this: daily exchange of flowers in dedicated spaces, is one of the things I love most about Japan.

We were greeted with some kind of New Year/Year of the rooster celebration while we had our coffee, with these interesting cave-men monster thingies. 

Again, not quite an old lady, but this creature was very taken with Viv and present #2 is soon presented. 

Kent thinks it doesn't count because we all got given a little bag of beans. 

A quick visit to Rathole Gallery in Omotesando (I thought it was a yawn), but Kent stayed in there longer than me, so perhaps there'll be some insight on the submachine in the days to come.

Looking at Anne Collier's work at Rathole. Even the shows that don't interest me feel important to share with Viv. I realise that this time around the poor bugger is seeing a lot less galleries because I simply don't like the hassle of taking him to them – not very fair, considering that he genuinely seems to love observing artwork, talking about it and has a better grasp of 'gallery hands' than most children of his age. Note to self. Child is better behaved in the galleries than the coffee shops. Hmmm. 

I couldn't help myself – the entrance to Rathole gallery, 2015 vs 2017. Both images totally unprompted, though this year's was a little blurrier as I actually had to run to catch up with him.

How else do you keep a small child amused while strapped into a stroller?

Seriously. Go the fuck to sleep.

Just a pretty streetscape out the front of a shop that Kent was perusing. It's amazing how being with a child can slow you down, but in positive ways. We looked at these flowers, then I showed Viv how to use a vending machine.

Coins to insert, buttons to push, drink to collect. And then the post vending machine discussion of what happened when 'I gave the money in the box and now it's still in there.' Snacking on sultanas and smug as fuck. 

The glazed expression of a child who desperately needs a nap but refuses to sleep in the stroller. Thank god he loves being on the train so much, watching the 'television' (the same 4 adds in a row that we've now seen for the last 3 weeks). I'm trying not to dwell too much on the increasingly permanent dark rings under his eyes, knowing that this is all temporary and he'll go back to eating proper food and (please god please) having proper naps when we get home soon. 

So much train love.

Our trip home was interceded by a necessary nanna dinner of pizza at 5pm. While we were on the train, I told Vivi to offer his seat to the old lady standing near him. She wouldn't have a bar of it – counter to the pram-hating culture of Australia that I know (and have ashamedly been a part of), children and their parents generally get seating priority, often with folks getting up out of their seat so that the parent managing the child can sit down – this old lady clearly thought Viv needed to sit more (maybe she could tell that he was delirious with sleep deprivation).

What was more amazing was that this old lady who I had totally underestimated, ran (that chick wasn't needing no seat on any train!) down the street after us, but not before ducking into a shop to buy Viv present #3 of today – simply for being 'Kuwaii!' And that is how our little beanbag dragon friend 'Backnix' has joined our family. He likes to eat strawberries, is mean, makes a noise like this 'raawoooaaaraaaaaaro' and also eats buildings.

Backnix.

Obligatory family dinner shot. It's great having meals on the 2nd floor where you can see out on the street below. Hey mums. Don't you love it when you 'order' a meal for your kid, with the secret agenda of getting TWO delicious meals for yourself, because deep down you know the chances of them finishing it are slim, but if you order them nothing, they'll just eat most of yours? 

Side-street restaurant views on our way home.

At least, we think this is a restaurant. Some kind of land of mysteries, with incredible door style.

We know our kid is extremely extremely tired when he voluntarily curls up in our arms and asks to go to bed.

Yesterday we got yet another Japanese language book for Viv with excellent pictures, and an equally excellent invented narrative from Kent to go with. Family story snuggle time is pretty sweet. 

All in all a good day. We'll be keeping it on the lowdown this weekend as Kent has a heap of work to catch up on and lots of events tomorrow, while Sunday is destined to be one of the few rainy days. I'm wracking my brains at good activities to do with Viv that no other parent in Tokyo has thought of. Given the level of insanity that Japanese children display at outdoor playgrounds, I don't like my chances of my own sanity in the indoor ones. We're beginning the slow decline into panic as next week is our last full week here so hoping to cram some important** stuff in!


Happy weekend all, I hope Australia is pleasantly warm – we're feeling sorry to be at the other side of the trip, but also starting to feel gently excited at all the good things, people and adventures that await us when we return home too.

xox
Lj.

P.s. Ironically, after spending about 5 hours wandering the trendy streets of inner-city fashion central Tokyo, we left empty handed, barely even trying anything on – it wasn't until our route home via the convenience store to get milk, where we ducked into a local boutique that we've walked past most days now, that I struck gold with a couple of beautifully Japanese-made linen shirts. It is a strange sensation to try on clothes while pregnant and think 'Hmm. I look a lot like a melon. I'll take it!'



*Those familiar with my extreme contempt for our shitty host, I would also like to point out that the apartment that has no tea towels, not a single spot to hang a coat or a towel and no knives, has TWO FUCKING VACUUM CLEANERS. Oh I am sorry, is the apartment SO INCREDIBLY LARGE that the thought of dragging one vacuum cleaner from the bedroom to the ONE OTHER ROOM is too hard? I can't see how, seeing as both of them take up the entire wardrobe. For the record, I did vacuum today, and you'll be amazed to discover I could vacuum the entire place while being plugged into the same spot the entire time. Yes.

**I will require another trip to Kayaba bakery for a custard bun, that's at least one day next week totally taken care of.