I was unpacking (yes still!) a box the other day when this popped out at me.

The very first thing I knit after picking up knitting 6 long years ago.

(edited to remove gratuitous sentimentality)

Well, we are back.

Tokyo has already shrunk in my memory, kind of like an odd dream you have that you can only remember glimpses of. It is really nice to be home sometimes, but at other times, It is really hard. I don’t think I fully imagined how hard the reverse culture shock would be, it is all very confusing. There are the cuter parts of it that I anticipated, like listening in to other people’s conversations, and walking into a shop and knowing they will stock pants that I can pull up further than my knees, but other parts of it certainly are not cute or anticipated. The price hikes, the unsettling blend of familiarity and change, even the easiness of everything is oddly frustrating. Luckily, I love the house, and I love the town and I love my country.

The summer has been hot hot hot, and my sweaty fingers are drawn more to beer than knitting, but I do have a simple hoodie vest in luscious Avril Tweed on the go, the knitting for Agnes is done (though the news is not great, i think the fit is odd, whaddya know, it looks better on the flat chested model than the bountifully chested moi), and am knitting up a super cute, all-pink, hyper-femme Cisco for a gorgeous girl. Here is a scarf finished in Tokyo, it is far too long, but I love the colour, and I love the lacy crochet.

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After four years, virtually half my twenties, we are leaving Japan.

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holy months gone past batman. anyway, who better to bring me back into the blogging fold than fabio, god amongst men.

(George Clooney) was drunk and thought people were taking pictures of him. So I went to the table and explained to him that we were having a charity dinner and I said, ‘You’re more than welcome to come to my table and see if there was a picture of you.’ I apologised and he started being rude so I put him in his place. After I put him in his place - you know I’m three times his size - he got a little scared. I went back to my table and as soon as I sit down he paid his bill, got up and he started insulting the girls. He called the women names. At that point I lost my temper. I went after him and he ran out of the restaurant. You have to be a low-class, scumbag to start calling a woman a name. If you’re a man, you should never. You should be a gentleman. These women were with me and as a man I defend them. He was lucky he ran out of the restaurant. He’s not even half a man

Not a very fruity summer though. Have been to busy to sit down at home and knit or sew or otherwise craft. But there is one lonely finished thing

Behold, the (not so) Minisweater!

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To escape the fucking awful miserable stifling really over the top heat of Tokyo, we escaped to Nikko for the second time this summer. We stayed once more in the Shobugahama campground (as we did with DazKat), but in a tent on the side of the lake, and while it was as cloudy as last time on the first day, (and deliciously only 19 degrees)…………

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I have just done something I have never done before in my life.

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How many bags does it take to transport one piece of paper?

It was cute paper but still! Roll that shit up with a rubber band!

Here is the paper all wrapped up with my mum’s birthday present inside

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Ingmar Bergman is dead.

He did have a long, full life and leaves behind a body of work that captivated and influenced millions, which is as much as anyone can ask for from a life. But still, it is sad. There is no one left like him.

Thanks for the good times Ingmar.

I am not as young as I used to be.

We just got back from Fuji Rock, and it was great. I have spent today napping and soaking sore limbs. And we only did one day…..

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