いってきます

love and true love.

One Way

Home being only what one can make it, I have come to treat this little town (called city by some) as a really lovely and pleasant and wonderful place to live and to breathe.  With each passing day, I laugh at the love that I had for that hole that used to be such an integral part of my life- which, only with distance can it be viewed as anything but a monster.  

There is a campaign going on right now to promote tourism to my region, which I support in equal and unequal measures. The last thing I would want is an influx of nonsense, but I do know that, just as I once had pride in the Rotten Apple, I now wave an altogether different flag.

      

Or.

I have been busy, busy, busy these past two weeks or so (more on that next time), but in all this rush and excitement, I somehow caught a cold (or allergy, as speculated by Other Half). Not being allergic to anything but work in my whole life, it is most likely the latter.  Who knows?

Anyway, with time to spend today at home, quality time I must add, watching things of little quality (which I could not reveal here, as they would really ruin your image of me), I also in my many diversions today came across this image which I absolutely adored in high school history.

I did love American History so much...that is, up until a certain point.

Anniversary Tin

Other Half has a thing for tins, as do I (though I rather just look at them than own them), so when we first laid eyes on the 110th anniversary tin for Shiseido (Parlour) around the holiday season, it was surely a thing to behold.  The red color pattern with sparkle is visually striking, and whatever contents were in it (biscuits, it turns out) were only secondary.  Unfortunately, in the few times that I have seen it on display, it was sold out.  I did not give it much thought until a few days ago when I saw it again, but this time was available for purchase, but I did not buy it there so as to bring Other Half to see its availability in full glory.  Alas, when I did so, it was sold out again and I was roundly told off for not buying it then and there, but upon my revisit a few days later, it was for sale once more and at long last, it was ours.

It turns out that the biscuits inside are quite good, too.

Six.

This past autumn, I had the luck to discover my favorite tie maker in the world, who was in town on one of their semi-annual visits to the luxury department stores.  Quite surprisingly, I found that it received compliments from a person who is used to seeing me wear ties all the time, but this is not really surprising because the tie is absolutely remarkable, extraordinary.

Well, for the past week, they have been in town again, and I went to their booth four times.  The first time was just snooping around with no direct intent.  The second was a full on attack, uncovering even the boxes underneath the table, and I wound up with five ties.  I went back a third time just to make sure and, lo and behold, talked myself into a sixth tie.  Today was the fourth time, and I restrained myself from picking up at least two more (though will probably complain about it later), but really because I bought the two lovely saleswomen a gift from a local confectionary.  I have had such a great time, and future many great times to wear those ties, that I needed to give them some kind of thank you.

That is the extent to which my devotion towards this material possession has become, and, as I told them, greatly look forward to their return trip in the fall. 

the location.

the score.