Thank You Mrs Purple.

So, a woman called Mrs Purple called me, she was very nice, says she has stepped up as our leader and fully appreciates my situation and would be grateful for whatever assistance I can offer, and not to worry about a thing. She said in a very nice Japanese way, that certain individuals have a tendency to be rather pedantic and I’m to just ignore them and do what I can. So that’s a load off.
I’m almost off all weekend, just one pesky lesson to do tonight. Kids are released from sports clubs because the mid term tests start on Monday and they have to revise.
Kev is taking full advantage of the time in front of the TV, and Doris claims to be revising in her room but I suspect she is staring in the mirror and running her tongue over her teeth now released from the confines of her metal braces.
She now has a smile that would stop traffic, I love it, she loves it, totally worth the second mortagage.

In trip planning news, yesterday I bought tickets to Kumamoto, in waay waay south Japan, post ticket buying investigations reveal it’ll take me almost as long to get there from here as it would to get to England, but can’t wait. Young Jim and I will go for 5 days in July to stay with a wonderful gal pal who so conveniently lives by the ocean.
Clearly any trip I plan will go wrong to a legendary degree, so the summer will be the worst weather on record, or there’ll be a bus workers strike or something, but never mind, by hook or by crook we shall get there, because I promised said friend 5 days of watching ‘Miranda’.
Not holding my breath on it but also planning to visit the Motherland in October, because someone rather wonderful is getting married.
Haven’t been to a wedding in donkey’s years, quite excited to say the least.

This morning I am taking young Sunshine to see a specialist about having cell-regeneration surgery. WOW!! not everyday you get to say that.
It’s raining, it’s pouring, and tomorrow I have a ‘date’ with my husband, as part of our new ‘making time for each other’ project.
Wonder if he wants to watch ‘Miranda’.
Have a good weekend all.

Just When You Need A Rapture

I may have mentioned in a previous post that the yakuin gods had found me, my number had come up, sort of, and I had found myself signed up for a year of school duties.

To recap a moment.
My name didn’t come out of the hat, someone else’s did. She found she was unable to do it and I felt she had really valid reasons for this. I told her I couldn’t do anything that involved reading and writing Japanese or relaying important information to others. I could offer a sturdy pair of hands, I could chip in my two cents and I could do the grunt work no one else wanted to do. I also could not attend all the meetings because they tend to be on weekday afternoons and I work most weekday afternoons.
She went back to the powers that be, and said they agreed to those terms, that they had in fact said, anything I could do to help would be appreciated.
Well okay, game on.
I decided that I would embrace this opportunity. A small part of me (a really stupid, needs to be shot in the head part of me) thought I would see it as something new, something that might lift me out of my current stagnation and apathy, new people and whole new pool of vocabulary to lift me to fluency and total domination of the Japanese language.
This will be engraved on my final list of ‘bloody stupid ideas’.

So 3 weeks in, here’s where we are with this wonderful new experience.
Last Monday was the first meeting, which as suspected I was unable to attend. So I filled out the form saying I would not be attending and put it in the special envelope and sent it off with Doris.
THAT NIGHT, at 9 pm I get a phone call. The woman says, did I know there was a meeting, I said I did. She said, you have to come to all the meetings. I said, no I don’t, I said in the beginning I couldn’t attend weekday afternoon meetings. I have to work.
She said, almost everyone has to work; you have to change your work schedule.
I said I can’t, it would involve rescheduling over 20 kids who are already scheduled to the max, there’s be no other available time I could get them to come.
She said, you’ll have to do ‘something’.
Then she said, at today’s meeting we assigned everyone to groups and responsibilities, you are on the Culture Festival (one of the biggest events of the school year) team and you have been assigned their leader.

I’ll refrain from saying exactly what word popped into my mind here, because my friend said her 12 yr old reads this.

So I tried to stay calm and I said, no, no no no no no, that isn’t going to happen. That can’t happen; I cannot possibly take on that role. I was very clear in the beginning about what I was capable of, and leading the group is not within my realms of possibility.
She said, well your name came out of the hat and now it’s all down on paper, your name is on it as leader, so……
I said, well you have to take my name off as leader, I cannot possibly do it, I might just as well try to grow taller for what you’re asking of me ( I owe that to the good Dr Phil), sorry but no no no and no again.
I pointed out that when I fail miserably at my duties, someone else will have to do them which will cause me to be bad mouthed and generally reviled, that would not be my happy place, I’m trying to stay within the confines of my happy place.
She said she’d talk to the other super powers and get back to me.

Next day she calls again.
She said the super powers have suggested that I stay on ‘in name only’ but I won’t really be responsible.
I said that I would not be happy with that scenario either, I had by this time sought outside counsel, and said counsel told me, whatever you do don’t let them keep you on with the ‘in name only’ crap. She said, they’ll try that and no one will actually have any responsibility but your name will be mud and you’ll get blamed for everything.
So, again I said, no, no no no no. She told me that this role is not difficult anyway; I simply had to manage a team of 16 women, delegate the responsibilities, and liaise with the head and deputy head and the 9th grade homeroom teachers. ???? No, no no no no.
I said, if I can’t read all the paperwork it’ll be impossible,
so she suggested I ask my children to read it for me.
(aside from the fact that’ll lengthen the entire process by 4, and they don’t get in from school until 7pm as it is…)
So I said “it’s not their job”!
She said, but it’s YOUR job to know what the papers say.

So I said, look it’s the 21st century now might be a good time to make a move into the bilingual arena as so many Japanese companies are doing now, please give me all the papers and information in English.
She said, I can’t, my English isn’t up to it.
So I said, maybe you could ask your children to help??

A rather aggressive tone entered things from here…..

Upshot is, she will send out a letter saying that I ‘refused’ the position and at the next meeting they will draw names again…that’s going to be a real fun meeting to be at, when someone else gets their workload quadrupled because of me, can’t wait……what to wear what to wear….

Too bad that whole rapture thing didn’t come to pass, would have been good timing….

A Smorgasbord of Field Trips.

Doris went off on Tuesday to Nagasaki for 3 days. They were supposed to go to Okinawa but it was changed apparently due to cost.
They said flights were too expensive so the bullet train to Nagasaki plan was implemented. Having paid for the trip a couple of months ago I fail to see how it could possibly have been more expensive but never mind. She’ll be back tonight and she has been much missed.
Kev and Jim both have day trips today and dawn’s first crack was a bento making frenzy. Jim looked at the clock and read it an hour out and flew into a bit of a panic, but order was restored. He is going to a museum in Hyogo Ken.
Kev is going to a farm in Mie Ken. A pig farm. According to the letter it’s a huge place where pigs frolic happily. There are 100s of piglets right now and the kids can feed and hold them. Then there are pig races, where the older pigs run around a track with little coloured jersies on. ( I doubt that betting is allowed). They’ll eat their lunch in the sprawling natural environs watching pigs at play, then, then , they’ll make sausages.
I do not make these things up.

All Hail The New Queen.

The newly created Queen award goes to the fabulous Ailsa for recommending I get thee to a home centre and purchase some UTAMARO soap. Such is my life right now, I’m celebrating that I got a true DAZ blue-white on my kids’ P.E. kids.
Only 138 yen, and it worked like a charm. even on a really old PE shirt I found in a drawer that was going to be chucked out it was so stained and horrible, it is born again, a whole new lease on, life, blindingly white. Such outstanding results spurred me on to try the soap out on Jim’s 1000 wash-grey Tae Kwon Dou dougi. AMAZING!! He thought I’d bought him a new set!
I have never seen nor heard of this magic potion before, you live and learn hey?
So Aisla, you rock and there is a sparkly crown waiting for you at mine and I’ll kiss the hem of your dress.

Golden Week Not So Golden.

Weather pretty crappy, The Man and Jim went camping, they come back today. I got mail from young Jim last night said the weather was good there yesterday, it’s all looking pretty grey and drizzly hear now at camp ‘bugger-all going on’.
I’ve taken pains to continue with my laughing themed life, and my laughs yesterday came courtesy of a lovely lass called Clare, who posted this on FB yesterday.
‘ Pippa’s arse is like a J.K. Rowling book, you know Harry’s gonna be in it’.
Had me in stitches all day, almost crashed into the car in front of me at one point. I think only one of the gamillion people I told it to found it as hysterical as me, but each to his/her own hey, we can’t all like the same things can we, or we’d be fighting over them constantly.
Also chortling as I read ‘Teenage Revolution’ by Alan Davies, lots of the self-deprecating humour I’m so fond of.
He’s only 2 years younger than me, so there are many similarities in our childhoods and teen years, obviously the same pop culture, he uses the vernacular of the day, so loads of words and expressions I’d completely forgotten about.
He even had to watch Songs of Praise on Sunday evenings.
My fabulous, massively achieving, well adjusted chicklets are never home these days, thus my blog is rendered fodderless.
Kev has thrown himself whole heartedly into his new handball endeavours, and possibly whole heartedly around the pitch on his belly, judging by the colour of his P.E. kit, and I’m left again to wonder why? for the love of all things good, why? are P.E. shirts white?
I soaked them all in a tub of oxyclean, but once in the washing machine a stray sock, or hanky, or bottle of green fabric dye must have slipped in and now everything is very badly tie-dyed a mottled moldy-mildew meets mint sauce green.
What a lot of ‘m’s, might have the students say that 10 times for pronounciation practice.
Onward and upward, off to Starbucks for a cup of java with my gal pal and then home to greet my returning heroes.
Be well all.