I realize it has been quite a while since I have written on here. I haven’t forgotten this blog. Oh, no, indeed … it’s one of the million things on my “to do” list that never gets done. I figure, though, since my days have been largely unproductive, I could at least manage this while waiting for my headache to subside, lying flat on my back on the couch.
Ah, sigh.
I’ve not really been able to look at this blog, mostly (again) because of the food posted on it, but also because … well … I really haven’t done much. This blog was supposed to be about all the super cool adventures and things I was going to have in Japan, especially while my husband was away so that he could see that I’m not a loser, and so that our families could get a little taste of what Japanese life is like. Funny how pregnancy throws a wrench in those plans. If it wasn’t the 24/7 nausea, it was the ridiculous and absolutely overwhelming heat that made that impossible. The base was constantly warning about strenuous outdoor activities, or on some days, any outdoor activities at all. Not only was it bloody, bloody hot, but the humidity increased the heat index by a significant amount; our 90 degree days (which were constant) felt like 100-110 degree days. It was terrible. And while I was so happy to have the Ensign home and helping me out, my hyper-sensitive nose could sniff his sweaty self the second he walked in the door (no joke).
Fortunately, now, the weather is cooling down. And the humidity doesn’t seem to be as bad. I have even been able to have my windows open for part of the day, which I am hoping will air out the house and help me tackle the mold problem that seems to have sprung up all over the house during the summer (we only got a dehumidifier a few weeks ago). I can’t (always) see the mold, but it can be easily smelled. I have no idea what to do about it. It was definitely not like this when we moved in.
My first trimester nausea is mostly abating, and flare-ups seem to be hunger-related, or specific-food related, or holycow the kitchen sink trap is DISGUSTING-related (I miss garbage disposals!). Unfortunately, what’s killing me these days is my head. I have a few hours in the afternoon to be productive — to clean, to shower, to do the dishes that I didn’t do last night because my head started killing me again — before it sets back in. It’s light-sensitive, and it’s definitely worse when I’m vertical. Fortunately, it seems to be two days on, two days off (or so). In the “two days off” period, I have managed to hang pictures (YAY!!!!!), do laundry (YAY!!!!!), clean out the fridge (holy cow YAY), and cook and clean the kitchen.
But it’s a constant battle. And I’m beginning to drive me nuts. It’s almost like being two people. When I’m feeling down and out, it’s just about make the daggone head stop throbbing please. When I come-to, I wonder who broke into my house and made this mess, because I would definitely never let gross pots and pans sit on the stove overnight (something I used to rail on against my roommates doing), or let a piece of red pepper petrify to the floor (where is Bertie to be my canine vacuum-cleaner?), or leave starburst wrappers all over the coffee table in the living room, or let the dishes pile up until they flow over onto the counter … CERTAINLY NOT ME! (Yes, it’s me). I think part of my problem is that I haven’t had long enough bouts of energy where I can pull myself together enough to tackle the seemingly monumental tasks of organizing this house. I still have yet to put all our clothes back into our dresser (they’re currently divided between a box in the living room and the dryer) and organize our shoes. My fear is that my husband will come home one day, and the house will look exactly the same as it is now. However, in my head, what the Ensign’s next homecoming SHOULD look like goes something like this:
Ensign: My darling wife! I have returned from the wilds of the orient!
Sakura: How wonderful! How many presents did you bring me?
Ensign: Too many to name!
Sakura: Oh how wonderful, my husband! You’re so wonderful. Here, have some apple pie that I made forms scratch myself this morning.
Ensign: It’s delicious! And how nice the house looks.
Sakura: Thank you! I employed advanced feng shuei techniques as I had the furniture arranged just so; also, I consulted with a professional interior decorator who helped me hang the pictures.
Ensign: But where did you find the time or the money to do that?
Sakura: A little thing called the internet — and being a thrifty wife! All the money we saved by shopping exclusively and only at the Commissary saved us *so* *much* *money*.
Ensign: And you say you’re no good at math!
Sakura: Here, please enjoy this Italian three-course dinner that I made. All the food is healthy and organic because I ALSO planted that vegetable garden I had been talking about since the summer!
Ensign: Hooray!
…Aaaaaand what am I doing instead? Intensively analyzing Mad Men episodes.
The good news, though, is … well, thank goodness for the totally obligatory nature of Mass on Sunday. I’ve managed to establish a good relationship with the pastor, who now wants me to help guide/direct/sing in the choir, and also to teach them some simple Latin chant. My goal is to introduce some GOOD hymns (they are working out of a *terrible* book) and help them be more organized (they have some talent, but they have 0 direction; nobody knows when to come in, and sometimes they’re all over the place). This will be fun. Of course, I have delusions of grandeur, here. I cut my teeth on the cathedrals of Europe, lived in Rome for a short while, and when I was in DC I lived in “Little Rome”, the area in the shadow of the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, where I occasionally lectored in the marble-and-mosaiced grand interior of the upper church while the choir sang Byrd, Palestrina, and other classics of Catholic polyphony. I have to stop myself from thinking either that I can teach or that the choir can handle (or that the congregation might be tolerant of hearing) the “Sicut Cervus” (which I love so much and was sung at our wedding). “Oh, it’s okay!” I respond to myself delusionally, “we can learn an Orthodox arrangement of the Our Father! That’s in English! Right guys? … Guys?” I even have to remind myself that even the newly-beloved “My song is love unknown” in SATB harmony is definitely too much to hope for.
Sigh. What I really miss — more than feeling well for the majority of just ONE day, more than someone else doing the cooking, more than anything familiar from home, is a really beautiful and uplifting liturgy. I’ve never been to a place where there was only one Catholic offering, and no Orthodox to speak of. This makes me cringe to think of such beautiful high holy days as Advent, Christmas, Lent, Holy Week and Easter… of what won’t be happening. But I take some comfort in that, while the non-denominational “chapel” (really, a shared auditorium, as the base is not allowed to build an actual chapel) will never be the high-vaulted cathedrals of Europe, we can bring some beauty and reverence to the liturgy bit by bit. I am thinking of asking Father to implement a monthly solemn Benediction (with which I would obviously be more than willing to help to the best of my abilities).
It’s true what Billy Joel says, “there is a time for meditation in cathedrals of our own”. While I am away from the Catholic glories of Western Europe (or its wannabe in the Eastern United States), I’ll do my best to bring it to our humble auditorium, and maybe to our house, because God knows this place needs to be cleaned up.
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