555: Things I Love

There might be ten things I’d like to change, but there are so many more things that I love about this house.

Slatted & glass doors that turn into walls. Not only are they gorgeous and functional, but I can direct the flow of traffic and change sightlines by opening different doors into a room and that is fun.
A living room sofa. While I enjoy sitting on the floor, it is better when it’s a choice. There is a thrill in having a nap on a sofa again and our guests are way more comfortable.
Deep vanity sink. I have a place where I can hand-wash laundry (or cats?) and splash around as much as I want.
Engawa deck along the front of the house is my favorite place to sit with coffee or just to be outside for a break in my day. The cats like it, too, so we often sit there together.
The bathtub’s precise water controls are a joy. No more running back and forth to check the taps as the bath fills. And the view of the back garden from the window is like a being in a rotenburo!
Wooden dining counter is the perfect space to sit and kibitz with the cook (or to help). I bought a folding stool for the kitchen side and that makes the space even better.
Evening light in the kitchen illuminating Hmm… answers the question “What’s for dinner?” Dad made this glass for my mother and I like their ghostly presence in my house.
The entire second floor is a beautiful, magical space. I am enjoying working and creating in this large open room.
The kumiko doors we repurposed for our bedroom closets are gifts from the Kawasakis, from one of their other old houses. I like this openwork wood pattern.
The lit-up version of the house at night. It is dark here. Thinking about how to light the house in the evening was a fun challenge. Every evening when Tod walks up the hill from work, I turn on the lights for his “victory laps” cooldown around the inubashiri.

That takes us to ten, matching the number of things I’d change. But there are so many more things that I like. I will continue…

Rinnai convection oven. Now that I can count on a reliable oven with enough heat and power to bake and roast, I am excited to cook again.
Two ovens – the new and the old – let us bake and microwave simultaneously. It is more convenient than I expected.
The 90 cm high counters. Throughout the house, the counters are the right height for us for the first time in 25 years. No more hunching over.
We have an “appliance garage” for big and small things like the waffle iron, blender, and so on. Everything is organised and easily at hand.
Roller cart for Kitchen Aid ensures that I use it regularly. So much easier than lifting it down from a shelf. It’s so heavy it etches wheel marks into the floor. I am embracing that as a record of our feasts.
The pantry in general; there’s plenty of food storage. I had fun organising it all so I can easily find what I want. We also have space under the stairs for seasonal items that don’t fit in the appliance garage.
The back door and its concrete staircase. Fritter likes to sit on the threshold and check the weather. Maura loves coming in this way in the evening. I mostly use it to hang out the laundry.
Washing machine in kitchen is super handy. I don’t forget or delay the laundry cycles like I did when the washer was outside. And this washer is really fancy. Yesterday it told me to press Start so it could clean itself.
Trash can on wheels works well in our kitchen. It’s a small thing, but in a large kitchen, it’s good to be able to wheel the can over to sink or anywhere there’s stuff to throw away. We also doubled our recycling bins so now there’s one for each category.
The staircase that Sasaki-san built is a delight to climb. The cats race up it every morning as part of their zoomies. The cadence of their running gait is hysterical. The have been clawing skid marks into the floor at the bottom where they turn the corner at speed to come up.
Finding the cats in unexpected places, like the railings or atop the beams.
The Neko Iriguchi in the doma is indispensable. The cats use it all the time, of course, and its prominent placement (and sign) amuses our guests.
The Balinese mirror in the toilet room finished the space perfectly and sort of fixes the lighting problem by reflecting the existing light.
Scent of cedar permeates the house. I know this won’t last forever, and it is already fading and being replaced with the scents of cooking and life in general, so I savor it while I can.
The eternal delight of finding figures in the knots of the floors, beams and ceiling. I thought I’d dislike like the randomness of the natural wood, but it’s entertaining. A friendly bear tilts his head as he watches me practice yoga. Tod pointed out a smiling guy on the floor near the toilet.

All the little spots on our property have names. Grandma’s Path, Fishtern, Tractorport, Giant’s Teeth, East Road, Upper East Side.
Garden view from the dining room sliding doors entices me outside. Sometimes to garden. Sometimes to dream of the finished garden (ha!). Sometimes just to sit on the Giant’s Teeth and breathe the fresh air.
The inubashiri that surrounds the house with its aggregate concrete is way better than I expected. The convenience of being able to run around outside of the house is good. Tod uses it daily; the cats prefer the concrete to the wet grass (especially if I haven’t mowed); I like that I can step outside barefoot without worry.
The Fishtern makes me happy every time I gaze into it. I love the fish and so does Beryl, who snacked on one of the koi.
Sunrise on the East Road. I often step outside in my pajamas, coffee in hand, and make a circuit past the barn to gaze at the sunrise and then walk back down to the house on Grandma’s Path. Beryl sometimes joins me on these little walks.
Morning light streams into the yoga studio during sun salutations. On sunny days, I have to turn the opposite way to keep it out of my eyes.
Evening light through the irimoya windows shines on the ceiling and casts crystal rainbows
Unexpected light and reflections through the glass doors as the light shifts through the day, or when the car is parked in different places, I get surprise watery textures. It’s like a little gift.
Ranma from the Andohs are a very special gift from their old family house in Shikoku. We hung one in the doma to greet our visitors and one in our bedroom just for us. The bedroom one has a turtle, a symbol of longevity.
The mantle clock finally has a home and is ticking away in the dining room, ringing its broken Westminster melodies through the house. I am still working on getting the time accurate with a tiny turn of the pendulum each week or so. It’s a little bit fast right now so the next turn will be downward.
The breeze through the house when the windows are open. It stirs up every afternoon and freshens the air.
Nature sounds outside. Stepping outside, I hear birds and insects: Japanese woodpeckers lightly tapping a dead branch, the buzzing wings of a hummingbird moth, a single bee enjoying a flower. If I listen closely enough, I will surely hear the plants growing.
The quiet indoors. The house is well insulated and when the windows are closed, all the outside announcements and noises are muffled. Traffic is distant. Even the shrieking deer and cat kerfuffles are muted.
The sound of the roof breaks the silence. When clouds pass over and as the sun warms the roof, the galvanised steel crackles along its nails. When the rain falls, there is a gentle noise through the house.
The water coming off the wavy steel roof. It drips dew every morning and in the rain turns into a rain curtain of miniature creeks and rivers. We installed French drains to carry away the water, and a guttered rainchain at the front door to keep up dry.