Tak is napping in our frigid back bedroom and I'm avoiding housework. All told, an excellent reason to blog. I could be watching the Jim Lehrer news hour on BS1, but instead I've been reading all the posts on my "married to a #@$*! Japanese" group. Misery loves company, and women married to Japanese men seem to be especially miserable. That's not really fair, but it seems that the latent lump of Japanese masculinity surfaces when the husband is living in his own country. Which is a nice way of saying I have a sink full of dishes, since my husband no longer even pretends that we share housekeeping duties. After all, he works 12 hour days and I'm a pampered housewife.
I'm chipping away at the boxes of stuff we moved from Seattle. We now have cookbooks, children's books and videos, and office supplies. Now if I could just get art up on my walls. Speaking of walls, I've hit one with the particular post, so I'm going to go take my chapped hands and wash some dishes.
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