April 2016 Archives

I'm thinking about my goals for next month - I did pretty well on eating veg and not too many cheese toasts, but I really went all out with the sugar  with mutliple chocolate and other sweets every day - so cutting back is going to be one of the May challenges. 

And practicing my skills every day so that I hit each one at least once a week. That is the main thing I need to work on. I hope that a chart to track that will help me achieve it rather than feeling like a nag...

I did the project planning, which involved not actually repairing anything but covering the sagging floor with fresh plywood and vinyl. It's an inexpensive, temporary fix. I opted not to nail or glue the new boards to the old floor. I know if we stay here more than a year or two, we will properly re-do the rotting floor. Taking up two subfloors would be a real nightmare, so for today I made a jigsaw of boards resting on the old floor and then sort of held it together with glue and vinyl. It's imperfect and a horror to any professional, but it sure does look pretty and the floor feels much more solid that it did this morning. It took us four hours, half of which was driving into town and shopping for the vinyl. Total cost including materials and Masa's time, under 20,000 yen. Win!

As a unexpected bonus, Masa dug up the ugly, creepy compost bin from the middle of the yard. When I mentioned that was on my list of projects to do, he lit up. "Can I have it?" Yes, of course! So with my newly purchased shovel, he dug down 20 centimeters and pulled it out of the ground. The compost inside was a mix of nice dirt, eggshells, and cockroaches (ick). It will be really fine after I dig it into the garden. And now I never have to see that dreadful bright teal plastic bin ever again. I'll make a less obtrusive new compost heap somewhere more useful, like outside the kitchen door.

Next up: amadoi (not amido or amado, which also need attention) - the gutters.

I have done this recently with bicycling. 

When we moved to Chiba, I was petrified to ride a bicycle. Six months later, I find myself cruising along with more power and less fear. My long term goal is to be able to ride all the way to the beach at Kamogawa and back (about 16 km one-way). I'm not there yet, but I have hit a key intermediate goal of riding alone to the market about halfway to the beach. My baby steps included short rides to and from local spots like Satoyama Design Factory and the post office. Tod gave me feedback about how to ride more effectively - focus on cadence, make good use of gearing, and encouraged me to get out and ride to build muscle memory. His feedback helped me to ride to the market with Tod many times. I set and met another small goal when I climbed the biggest hill without having to get off my bike. We took a few rides off the usual route that I considered extra challenges to push me out of my comfort zone. And finally I got myself to the market alone. So now I need to break down the remainder of the ride to the beach into small steps. And after that, I will set a new long term goal - maybe a ride into the mountains. Eventually I expect to become a proficient and even skilled cyclist.

My biking example was done from necessity but it came naturally to create small goals along the way to a bigger one. I find it encouraging to see that this process works. Hurrah!

And here is where the discouraging part comes into play for me.

I do too many things. Thanks to years of experience, I'm adequate or even "pretty good" at many of them. Real mastery and skill, though, requires time. I can't see how I can possibly practice all my activities to a level of being properly skillful in them. There is always SO MUCH to practice, and I have trouble focussing when I do. If I am juggling, shouldn't I be hooping? I love to draw but certainly yoga is better for my health in the long run. Singing brings me pleasure, but wouldn't I be wiser to focus on a skill that could earn me an income? Anyway, because I don't practice anything with commitment and purpose, I have stalled on all of my things at a level that is becoming dissatisfying.

Can I just practice everything more, somehow? Maybe in rotation: Mondays for music, Tuesdays for yoga, Wednesdays for circus, Thursdays for art, Fridays for writing, Saturdays for... Is it possible to be that disciplined? What if I've forgotten something? I used to make jewelry, to cook, to edit video. How do backstage performance arts get practiced? Curriculum development? How do I fit in all the other things that require my attention like gardening or laundry?

Perhaps I need a time machine, extra lives and a clone. Or I could try to lower my standards and develop more patience.

Honestly, I am not sure what solution is going to be easiest to achieve: rigorous practice, impossible technology, or personal growth. Maybe I'll just go have a nap now.

Friends suggested that a cat would keep away the rodents. But we're not ready for cats at the moment. However, whoever hands out cats from the great heavens had another plan. We now have a cat. Actually it has us.

A few days after the rat/cat discussion, I was taking a nap. I opened my eyes and saw...a cat in the hall.  Tod, in the room opposite, confirmed it wasn't a late afternoon dream. A cat was sitting in the hall grooming itself. Tortoiseshell markings, so female. I sat up to say hello and she bolted out the front door. Feral, but wise to houses.

A few nights later, there she was again. She opened the front door herself, walked quietly toward the kitchen. But I heard her, called out, and she stared at me for a bit before bolting. She snuck in another evening while we were out and ate a piece of bread. Poor kitty must be very hungry. Should we feed her? Despite a divided opinion, Tod brought home cat food a few days later. And then she snuck in again and ate half the butter we'd failed to put away.

So now, we close the kitchen door and make sure all the food is away. Good policy in any case.

She continues to visit so I've given her a name, Pel. Two days ago she peeked her head around the corner into the living room where I was working. I'm not sure who was more surprised. She gave me that, "It's it dinnertime?" look so I filled her bowl. She meowed when she finished.

Last night, she turned up at about 1 am in my bedroom. Pel has never been in the same room as me. She did seem a bit unnerved when I rolled over and saw her, but she didn't flee. Maybe she is gentling herself. We looked at each other for a while, then she walked out into the hall to pace a bit. She let herself into the living room, then climbed into the closet and deliberately knocked a small box off the shelf. Such a cat. I stuck my head out the bedroom door and she retreated to the end of the hall. We just sat together for a while, until I was too tired and crawled back into bed.

Pel has a friend, too. I call him Pep. Similar colorings, but Pep is fat and doesn't come inside. He eats the other half of the cat food every night and does the same sitting and staring thing as she does. After eating the other day, he sat at the open front door for a while, then moved himself to a place at the end of the walkway where he could watch me in the living room.

These are strange cats, but I'm kinda happy to have them around. Maybe some day I will get to cuddle them - and take them to the vet.

After I returned from farewelling him towards the airport, I cried hot tears of abandonment and self-pity then fell into a funk. It would be so easy to stay there, depressed and lonely, bingeing on social media and movies, and eating nothing but cheese toast and pickles. But I do not want to spend the next ten weeks like that - it's really not me. So I am making the rest of this month into "Accountability April" for the following goals:

I like fifty so far. It's a half century! I've looked forward to it for a year. I get to tick a different box in the demographic surveys. I can definitely say I am middle-aged and nobody disagrees. I am, in fact probably 5/8ths of the way to the end now, statistically speaking.