This is a section for my casual remarks & murmurings in daily life. It was supposed to be a diary, but it just proved I'm most unsuitable person to keep one...well, this is me and I still try to update it when you have already forgotten the existence of this section.



22/10/'01 my best wishes

E-mail is the wonderful achievement of technology as a means of communication. At the same time, I think, it's the most awful nerve-racking thing. It's excellent because it's so fast and easy, and it's unbearable because it's too fast and easy.

If you are writing a letter, which is nowadays called a "snail mail", you finish it, put it in an envelope, put a stamp on it and post, then you can go back to your home and comfortably wait for the answer at leisure, or even forget about it, because you know the answer will take at least a few days. But with an e-mail, you finish it, click the "send" button and as soon as it disappears from the screen you start waiting for the reply. Even if you took some time to reply their message in the first place you don't care. You have answered back, and you expect to receive an answer right away. This is awful. If it comes right away, fine. But if it doesn't?

One or two days you can wait. Three - five days, you wonder why the delay. A week, you start to worry and suffer between "they are probably away on holiday" and "did I write anything wrong? don't they like me anymore?". Two - three weeks, you begin to think something must be wrong and to consider sending "did you get my message?" or "are you all right?" mail, and it goes on. This is very bad indeed. You may of course get a reply at any point. You are relieved, open the message and if it's something like "sorry for my delay" you will more or less feel rewarded, but if it's like "hi I'm so busy at work, bye" you are far less satisfied and write and send back another message immediately, and start waiting again. This is beyond salvation.

Of course it doesn't happen with every single mail (if it did you would be at least seriously looking for a good psychiatrist by now). With close friends whom you know their personalities or life-styles well, you can provide any reason to the delay and just wait without much worry. Or some light "chatting" kind of messages are not in the case either (normally). It's the mails which, long or short, you took some time and heart to write, and send it with a little expectation and excitement for a "rewarding" answer. But well, whether they think "rewarding" is what you consider the same, that is another matter...

E-mail makes one selfish and impatient. Perhaps we should make a law for "only one e-mail a week per person" and try to start writing "snail mails" again. ...Or I should at least.



28/7/'01 I left my heart in ireland

Here in Japan at the end of July, already a month since I got back from Europe. Thank-you mails sent, photographs neatly stuck in two thick volumes of albums and souvenirs sorted out (more or less).
After the series of murderously hot days we had sudden heavy thundershower, and the air cooled down for a couple of days. I open the window nearly for the first time since I came back, to let the cool breeze in, and my mind momentarily and unexpectedly goes back to the far land of Eire.

North Italy was lovely, the little towns and villages by the emerald-green sea, stone steps with flower-decorated walls and windows on the both sides, lemon trees and soft pink oleander flowers under the bright blue skies looking down the creek, charming locals. Cotswalds was beautiful, little villages of hundreds-years-old cottages which walls are covered with cascades of green ivys and roses, cozy tea-rooms and friendly people. Isle of Man was full of wonders and yet very comfortable and tranquill, clear blue water tiding in the fine-sanded and white-pebbled shore, little steam trains and red-and-green stations, welcoming people, the shadow of an old castle on a little island under the rising sun. Somerset was stunning, well-looked after flowerly old cottages and gentle green hills blessed with wild animals, quiet little fishing towns and most beautiful sunset over the calm sea, people admire the art of nature and exchange pleasant and friendly greetings, enjoying good portions of local fish & chips.

But oh, Ireland. Why are you so special? The weather was not always favourable, I was drenched to the bones a couple of times, but also had unexpected brilliant blue skies and bright summer afternoons. Those colourful houses and shops in towns, lucky encounters with the most wonderful traditional tunes and songs by local people, the people who don't hesitate to show the great love for their native land, people who are there when you most need them. The sheep and cattle dotted round the hills and narrow rocky roadsides, white clouds softly touching the heads of deep-green mountains, stunning red fuchsia flowers, dark-coloured rocks on the quiet beach. Old ruins of stone buildings in the little yellow flowerbeds, dizzy views and whirling seagulls white wings down the top of the cliffs, delicate sound of that Celtic harp flowing down the gentle slopes of hills to the pale-blue lakes, hazy shadow of a distant island through the mist. You showed me some little miracles and wonders when I least expected them. Just a little piece of music, words, sounds, faint scents still send me back to those moments and I suddenly feel the air surrounding me again.

I wonder why you keep me enchanted in this way, wonder why I feel I could never leave you. Have I left something dear to me somewhere down the lake, among the gentle ripples of the same shade of pale-blue of those eyes? I do not know, yet. All I know now is that I will have to come back to you again, whether I may find the answer or not, whether you like it or not.

So, my dear Ireland, until I see you again, Good luck and joy be with you.


12/7/'01 fairy on the shelf

Since back from the holiday in Europe I have been experiencing a little weird phenomena. A rather classical-style electric lump on the shelf, with a "touch-sensor" (there's no switch but you switch it on and off by touching its metal body), started to go on-and-off by itself. I first thought it was the electric bulb, but it still goes funny even after I changed it. It goes off after a while I turned it on in the evening, it lits up right after I turn it off at dawn. Sometimes it keeps going on-and-off and twinkles for a while.

Before I headed for the Isle of Man on holiday, my friends in England said to me "Beaware of fairies, because they say there still are those creatures living on the island". When I came back I told them "Well, it seems I was not that lucky to encounter the little ones". Thinking back the course of my trecking now, however, it seems this particular holiday was in a way a lot more adventurous, especially after I left the Isle, with many new acquaintances, coincidences, unplanned meetings and even "magical" chance meetings as if they happened as the result of some un-human power or a little capricious trick.

I have brought back some little white pebbles I picked up on the shore of the Isle...I wonder if I have brought something else back with me.







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