Have You Seen Chiiku?

AM

Least: By about 11:55am, I was tangled up in a roll of de-linting paper. My pants had been covered in a woolly coat of lint courtesy of our appalling washing machine. The rolller is a very effective weapon in the lint war, however its frustrating tendency to stick to one's hands and become an enraging part of a person's morning. Japan seems to be a very linty country and the scourge can creep up at any moment and overwhelm the unwary visitor. The war continues.

Most: At close to 9:40am, I finally resuscitated my habit of walking around the local pond. The oldish men were there in a blue cloud of cigarette smoke and just cracking their first cans of beer. A women sat for 20 minutes chain smoking and staring into the middle distance - thinking about her crashing bore of a husband no doubt. Further around the park, a 45ish year old man fumbled with his tackle as he waited for the little bells on his four massive surf rods to jingle with fish. I thought he might be crazy and in a beach fishing fantasy or simply testing out his new gear. As far as I could tell, he didn't catch the Mandai Ike monster or any fish. A sad side-story of my walk was a poster for a missing parrot named Chiiku. He was white with red cheeks and 30cm long. According to his overly formal portrait, he had a penchant for gold buttons and jewellery. I hope he is ok.

PM

Least: At nearly 9:00pm, with little to do at work, my industrious Japanese colleague asked me to write on several slips of paper. The boring part was, it was in hiragana and kanji, the former I'm not much good at, the latter I've never written a scrap. After carefully copying the example given to me, my erstwhile workmate could find nothing in her register other than to say "You had trouble with the su"? then "Oh, I can read it." Crushingly boring - especially coming from a noted apple-shiner.

Most: At about 9:50pm, I squeaked open our mailbox to discover some junkmail, a card, a letter from Rosie's mum and a padded bag addressed to me. Inside the padded bag was a book I evidently bought online a number of months ago and had sent by surface mail from England. The book, which contains the Conrad novellas Typhoon, The Shadow Line and another unmentionable title, was a nice little Everyman edition from 1950 with a nicely worn dustwrapper. I cannot remember buying the book directly, but surmise that it must've been one of the several items I drunkenly purchased after a night of Premium Malts. What a nice surprise - I should use surface mail more often.

The Importance of Being Idle

AM

Least: Close to 8:30am, I waded through another short chapter of Nick's And the Ass Saw the Angel. Given his admirable rant on prolix, it is easy (and uninteresting) to begin groaning at the incredible purpure of his writing. He manages to create an interesting atmosphere of disgust impending terror but it's far too self conscious. At the very least, someone should've convinced dear Nick to remove every single use of ah and may for I and my. Nothing a pair of scissors can't fix.

Most: Just after 11:15am I sat on the front verandah drinking steaming black tea in the sun. Being idle seems to be an important feature of my time in the hills. Being idle gives me a chance to persevere with wordy books, examine possible fossils, bake by the fire, digest, cook, stare blankly or simply revel in being part of an idyll. This morning, I poached, read and resisted reading more of And the Ass Saw the Angel, drank tea, fed the magpies and currawongs, spied on superb fairy wrens, looked inside an interesting stone, lit the fire and watched darkening clouds change and drift by. Ideal, but I won't even try to explain it to my more earnest, everywhere, early rising inquisitors.

PM

Least: Sometime around 2:30pm, I inadvertently glanced at some daytime television. The appalling sound capturing every rustle of clothing, every smack of lips and every boring breath took me straight back to memories of days sick at home crawling by. Today's monstrosity seemed to consist of ghosts and flashbacks. Simply awful.

Most: At about 7:15pm I began thinking about my last day in the country and my return to Osaka. This town is almost the exact opposite of my like in Tezukayama. It is cold, completely uncrowded, people only speak English, read hair is common, sashimi is unobtainable and I don't have to work strange hours. This short diversion from my life in Japan will no doubt make Osaka even more bizarre and interesting. Tomorrow back to Melbourne.

The Relief of Birds

AM

Least: I woke this morning at about 7:30am to discover my ears ringing. The extreme lack of noise outside meant that the faint squeal from the inner reaches of my ears became the loudest sound in the room. The noise of big cities seems to hide and cause all kinds of ringing . The noise of industrial society need industrially loud music to drown it out. Five days a week I shut out the sound of the rails and endless announcements by listening to various variations of rock n roll. Maybe we could measure how close a town is to death by the ringing in ones ears?

Most: By 8:00ish am, some noise had crept into the backyard and relieved the ringing. The birds were browsing the grass for seeds or hapless insects in their daily struggle. Through the window, I could hear and see magpies, fairy wrens, crows, currawongs, satin bower birds (above) and the usual flying mice. As usual the magpies were busy bullying the other aviators out of anything of value. I've always been suspicious of magpies since they pecked blood out of my head when I was three. The crows here don't speak Japanese.

PM

Least: By almost 3:00pm, I had been the victim of several attacks of regional advertising. Universally terrible sound, lighting, acting and scripts set Gippsland television advertising apart from all others. A particularly appalling example repeatedly offended my senses today. During the ad for Bairnsdale Motel, we are given a demonstration to show that the rooms have enough room to literally 'swing a cat'. You are welcome to stay there for business or pleasure. It is not actually in Bairnsdale.

Most: Just after 12:00pm, I walked through the bush to to the old gold mining areas that boosted Omeo to former grandeur. I trundled past numerous examples of the environmental destruction of the past 140 odd years. Deeply eroded gullies, piles of river stones, weeds, decrepit fruit trees, a burnt-out pine plantation, ancient rubbish, dangerous shafts and tunnels make this well trodden track interesting. As kids we used to explore the old mines for hours with string and candles. It is amazing that the local environment is still reeling from the gold rush - but at least it made growing up in this town interesting.

Mandai Ike to Nakamozu

AM

Least: At about 8.15 I took the bottles and cans downstairs and left them on the road. The rubbish collection process in Japan is complicated - plastics on Monday, combustibles on Tuesdays and Fridays and bottles and cans on the second and forth Thursday of the month. Most of the rubbish is incinerated.

Most: Between 8:35 and 9:10 I waded through the humidity around Mandai Ike. I walked 5 or 6 laps. I saw visored Tezukayama Queens warming up for and performing their fan-yoga - the opening fans sound like the crackle of carbines in a firing squad. I saw birds waiting for a luckless fish, a large bee, turtles loafing about, dragon flies patrolling, sparrows and starlings scavenging and crows waiting for a scrap. The old men were either fishing or simply wasting time - all were smoking.

PM

Least: I went to the ATM at our local UFJ bank. I called on the machine to give me instructions in English. It responded favourably to my request, however at a volume too high for comfort. People turned their heads.
Most: At Nakamozu, I had just finished reading a very strange letter from an obsessed student when I was summoned to the window to look at fire-engines. The fire-engines and police were attending an apparent suicide at Nakamozu Nankai station. I saw the sheet and the body bag being carried away from the tracks. Withing 20mins the trains were up and running again.