I wish these rosaries away

At this Irish wishing well, said to have been discovered by Oscar Wilde but probably ancient, is where my soul always take a slightly pagan turn. Are there faeries over there in the mist and why do I feel intoxicated?

Sadly, the wishing tree has been vandalised. The ribbons and trinkets tied to it by hundreds of wishful people have been removed and tacky plastic rosaries stuck to it instead. That is just wrong.

My wish: May this place always be home and may I keep returning.

Near a tree by a river there's a hole in the ground
where an old man of Aran goes around and around...

at Peace of Mind Beach, Ireland

I picked a red and white stone on an Irish beach. The wind was wintry but mild to skin that is used to northern climes. The gentle softness of the air felt like home.

Acrid and wonderful smell of turf fire. The knowledge that after our walk, there would be a cup of hot tea. Soothing voice of the sea in deep winter. A quiet rain that does no harm.

A lost dog ran past us while we discussed deep secrets only shared by friends. Muscled men with surfing boards braved the cold water and someone was riding a white horse where the sea met the sand. The sun glinted between clouds in a reddish sunset.

"Can we stop at Tesco's on the way home?"
"Yes, I want to get some Cadbury's Crème Eggs. And white chocolate chip cookies. All the good stuff... Let's do a TV dinner tonight and get a bottle of wine!"

And literally, not a care in the world.

2009: swiss trains, UN peacekeepers and all the rest, part 4

Being one year wiser, I also now know: * Only a truly idealistic heart can produce real cynicism. * My body remembers the sound of the door to my primary school classroom even though my mind does not remember what I learned there. * Beauty and a gourmet meal can be found in a fast food joint with dirty tables and strip lighting when your dinner companion is a good man. * A hug from a UN peacekeeper, tales from Afghanistan and a game of pool in a pub is an excellent way to spend an evening. * I may have been born to learn the English language. * I may have been born to encourage the discouraged. * Changing a tyre is easy but you should not handle methylated spirits if you know nothing about car engines. * It is necessary to take sick leave once every ten years. * Beer is drinkable. * Driving through the night is not as romantic as it sounds, even if your destination is Sweden. But when the result is a van-load of books, it is almost worth it. * I doubt that I am loved. * I may have been born to discuss science fiction and God over a drink in an Irish pub. * Translating leadership material can save someone's life and all the best things in life are free, including my voluntary work. * A wheat heater pillow can repel the swine flu. * I may have been born to quietly observe the madness of the world with irony and delight. * Driving aimlessly through the countryside is just as romantic as it sounds, even if you come across an ancient execution site. * A tiny Finnish river can look just like the Loire if you have an open mind. * My dream tree is still growing. * Two weeks before the winter solstice you can stand between the bright midday sun and the pale full moon. * I may have been born to multi-task. * There is such a thing as "too much snow" when you have a car. * There is such a thing as 24/7 contact lenses. * There is such a thing as "too much TV". * I am one of the few people in Finland who can sing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen". * I can drop my Nokia phone in a snow drift and have it returned to me 4 hours later (in full working condition) by a kind stranger. * 2009 was supposed to bring me dreams for life. I started to dream at night - of fascinating, strange landscapes.

2009: swiss trains, google earth and all the rest, part 3

My, it was a long year. I also learned: * When you are in a boat and fear drowning - feel the wood beneath your bare feet, smell the fresh tar and the salty sea, see a tiny baby blink towards the sun, anticipate the taste of grilled whitefish, and suddenly it does not matter if this will be your last day on earth. * I live more intensely when I feel weak. * French rock opera sounds best in a little cottage in the woods. "Je voudrais seulement m'en aller cultiver mes tomates au soleil." * Friendship is sweetest when you watch the midnight sun together with hair wet after a swim in the sea and heart warmed by a bottle of red. * Baby hares are unafraid, cranes are echo-makers and it must be tough to be an eagle because all the other birds hate you. * Jurassic Park is a tiny island just off the Finnish coast. The dinosaurs stayed in hiding during my visit though. * Sailboat races are difficult to watch when your 9-year-old niece is running around chasing a boy and your elderly mother just spotted her high-school sweetheart in the crowd. * I never made promises lightly and there have been some that I've broken, but this summer I did walk through fields of barley. * Snakes and poodles are attracted to one another. * I like naïve art and bright colours and if I could paint I would paint Time and Space. * Selling books make your knees hurt. * Class reunions are scary, some monsters never grow up, some monsters were never monsters at all, I was never defeated and there is true Goodness in the world. * Sleep is sweetest under the stars. * Spiders do not like it when you paint their wall. Neither do wasps. * Hospitals are not so depressing if you wear red leather. * Never get involved in the sale of a chihuahua. Especially if the dog is not yours. * RyanAir tries to ruin your life but God literally knows why so everything turns out for the best. * Best thing about work: ordering music and making people happy. Worst thing: taking it personally when John Lennon in orange wig and tartan beret lies to you. * You should not stand with your mouth open when Google Earth (Street View) takes your picture. * Environmental activists with questionable ethics can express themselves in English with my help. * Our local theatre only do plays that involve loads of suffering. * If you go to two parties and eat too much banoffee pie before bed you will dream about a blind date with Jose Manuel Barroso. * Happiness is travelling 500 miles in one day with God-fearing people.

2009: swiss trains, earthquakes and all the rest, part 2

Some more acquired wisdom courtesy of year 2009:

* Easter bonfires inspire people to matchmaking.
* Having the authority to delegate means more work for yourself.
* Springtime should be enjoyed with lots of mud, snow melting in the sun, a good friend and an abandoned Russian military base in the middle of the woods. Hot chocolate to round it all off.
* I must make my bed in the mornings to be ready for life. And dress dramatically.
* Surprise birthday parties entail googling ginger, Kvimo and the best ways to crucify a scorpion.
* One cannot die from self-disgust. Unfortunately.
* Barbecue on the beach is lovely even when you are freezing your butt off.
* The ancient Finnish ritual of the huge May Day market in the city, with traditional makkara and muikkuja, should be celebrated with Russian, Lithuanian and Kenyan friends and lots of youthful exuberance. You may end up feasting on Vietnamese spring rolls and wondering whether it is really a lion tooth that your Kenyan friend has pierced her earlobe with.
* Saturday night at the emergency room means friends with swine flu fear, bleeding drunks, a security guard who would not scare a four-year-old, icehockey on TV, reading Town & Country.
* Earthquakes do happen even in Finland. My first, of 3.4 on the Richter scale, was bone-jarring but hardly frightening and I blamed it on mystical experiments in the prison dungeons next door.
* I am the bowling champion. Of my ladies' volleyball team. But still.
* I have strange friends. They get tied up in the trunk of cars, walk through Middle East deserts and play golf in the Himalayas.
* Barbecue on a balcony overlooking a garden is lovely even though Pakistani friends are happily ignoring Finnish fire safety regulations.
* Boat trips to deserted islands involve excited kids, big boulders, ominous great cormorants, picnics with coffee and biscuits, rain.
* "Listen to the wind words, the Spirit blowing through the churches." (The Message Bible)
* Star Trek films should be watched in the company of two unknown Dutch boys.
* Smile less, laugh more.
* I am more scared of bears and elks now than when I was a kid.
* My city (population 57 000) now has its first street beggar. The local paper reported it.
* My flat once belonged to a real ship's captain.
* A family holiday on a Swedish island is like this: windmills, poppies, kids and dogs, stone walls, adorable things, lighthouses to be climbed, childhood traumas resurfacing, birds of prey, iron age forts, picnics in cow fields with views, seaweed, fossils, basketball, ex tempore comedy, food or coffee that can cure almost anything, George MacDonald's Phantastes.

2009: swiss trains, dying stars and all the rest

Goodbye 2009. Here is what I learned from you: * A serious chocolate tasting party takes a LOT of time but not necessarily a lot of chocolate. * I am competent enough to discuss Obama, cricket and Swiss trains with a pastor from The Co-operative Republic of Guyana. * Stars can stop shining as you are watching. * Some broken computers can be fixed by being plugged in. Others require tormented phone calls to strange men speaking strange languages. * Metal wires are not necessary even in my mouth after all. * Selling books to village libraries is hard work because the libraries do not have lifts and are always located on the second floor. * FaceBook may be the greatest invention of the 21st century. If I can manage to find the long-lost love of my life and not just every other person I ever met. * TV-series on DVD may be the second greatest invention of the 21st century. If I can manage to drag myself away to do an objective assessment. * I have some very strange friends who look for lions, create magical labyrinths and move to Havana. * All the best things in life are free. Like my unpaid labour when I do volunteer work. * My hair is curly. I never knew that before. * The best dreams I ever had are the ones in which I'm travelling. Or being chased through dark, winding corridors. * My body is aging. My stomach does not like onions and my right knee does not like me. * Old scarred fighters from London's East End sometimes end up growing roses for Sunday school children. * The wind is very cold on a frozen sea. * Birdsong makes me happy. Volleyball makes me frustrated. Wine makes me happy or bored. Coffee makes me happy, every day, which is in itself a miracle - I should have more such addictions. * St. Patrick's Day can also be celebrated with brambrack, mother, my old maths teacher and only one pint of cider. * Heavy metal music can occasionally be enjoyable, but the mood must be exactly right. * FaceBook must be the worst invention of the 21st century. Sometimes I want to write in my status update: "I don't give a shit what all of u have on ur mind & why do some of u think the rest of us want ur update 10 times a day to know u have a headache and a bellyache and a heartache & are correcting essays and writing essays & were given a song by Jesus & want to save the world & shaka bam!" * My stovetop is the best place to sit, to watch the sea and contemplate life. * "Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is more people who have come alive." (Gil Bailie)

end it with a dash

I sit on a wealth of knowledge - the Norstedts Swedish-English Dictionary - and have a glass of red wine. A handcrafted candle - Christmas present from my niece - is spreading (probably) toxic paint fumes in the room. I have Christmas flowers - hyacinths and hippeastrums. I have contributed to Wikipedia today - only with knowledge. I wish I had the answer to a mystery and was the only one on earth to know - I would write it in my diary just in case I was hit by a snow plough on my way home from work. I would end the entry with a dash like this - so that people would think I had something else to say but it is now lost forever -

here's everything I know about winter

Winter -

twinkling lights, frozen fingers scraping ice off a windscreen, fake fur, darkness and twilight and the wonderful surprise of an occasional sunny day, sleepless nights and drowsy days, hot and spicy tea, the dread of Christmas, cold air, darkness, darkness and more darkness - and then, at last: snow!

sick day note

While on my lonely couch I lie,
I seldom feel myself alone,
For fancy fills my dreaming eye
With scenes and pleasures of its own.
(Anna Brontë)

look at your man, Annie

Many a sad life story is to be heard among the customers at the Little Shop of Harmony. Many a sigh have I sent up to God as I see refugees struggling to make a life for themselves, alcoholics struggling to find something to live for. And above all, as I see the aching loneliness of those not loved by anyone.

And then I go back to my own life and whine over the lack of a decent cup of coffee and the cost of hair dye.

Today, an old man wandered in to buy a present to bring to some celebration he obviously had been invited to. He asked for directions to the gift book shelf but politely declined offers of help to choose, as if not wanting to trouble anyone. After looking around a bit at random, he chose the first suitable and not too expensive book he found. I took his money and idly reflected over the fact that such an independent man still could seem so lost in the world. But after all, lone male shoppers tend to seem out of place in our small shop - it's usually the women who buy gifts.

As if in explanation, he suddenly remarked as I handed him his change: "My wife, Annie, she used to buy the presents. But she is gone now."

I mumbled something inane and then he left. But despite all the sad stories I have heard, this one gave me a sharp stab of pain on the inside. In fact, I cried. Over the loneliness, the helpless despair, and the incredible courage of people who make their lives go on even though the bottom of their world has fallen out.

I hope Annie in her heaven is smiling down at him through tears of pride and love.

more tips from the coach

Seize life! Eat bread with gusto,
Drink wine with a robust heart.
Oh yes—God takes pleasure in your pleasure!
Dress festively every morning.
Don't skimp on colors and scarves.
Relish life with the spouse you love
Each and every day of your precarious life.
Each day is God's gift. It's all you get in exchange
For the hard work of staying alive.
Make the most of each one!
Whatever turns up, grab it and do it. And heartily!

from Ecclesiastes 9, The Message Bible

seven questions and one answer

Coffee, bleak sunshine, a favourite book (The Sparrow by Mary Doria Russell), online praise music. Walking around the flat, sighing in front of the computer, translating animal rights activists and steering documents of vocational education. Am I good enough? Will I ever be happier than I am now? What will I have for a late lunch and why is cooking so boring? What is the meaning of life? How long is the season of unrequited love? What would you name a self-help group for people who talk too much?

Answer to the last question: On and On Anon.

girl talk

My 9-year old niece, already an expert on romantic relationships (recently broke up with a boyfriend as she felt he was not committed enough), sneers at me when I suggest I too might know a thing or two about men. "Really?" she says sceptically and proceeds to test me:

Niece: So, what do all men have that women don't, in the front?
Me: Eh... a... (feebly trying to avoid the obvious answer and wildly think of another possible one) ... an adam's apple!
Niece (in triumph): So you don't know!
Me (defensively): It's the correct answer!
Niece (in a patronizing voice): No. The correct answer is: Chest hair!

not so hopeless

Dreamed that I had a dream. Woke up and felt hope - the hope to acquire a dream again. It's a start.

Yesterday I sat on a beach as darkness slowly fell. Smoked a cigarette (I'm cutting down on my one-a-year habit), listened to the quiet of the autumn evening and tried to think, and believe: I am loved.

not so hopeful

The elk hunt has started and a man I admire is going to raise his rifle. I should be resting but is torn between work and moral obligations and almost in tears. I am proud of my skills and worried about my knees. I face the winter of my discontent.

my life in a Dalí painting

On the steps of the gazebo I sat crying and the actor had to go somewhere else to rehearse his monologue. I read poems to the blind man and whispered to his guide dog. With aching knees I bought three odd-shaped lightbulbs.

Drifting again and my life seems too surreal to me. I'm taking out my cigarrettes; I still have a packet from last year.

what is the distance between two friendships?

Your view of friendship is too mechanical if you call your nine-months-pregnant friend and are surprised to hear that she has been missing your phone calls. You should not automatically put yourself at an emotional distance just because you are at a geographical one and fear that you will lose that friendship.

On the other hand, sometimes it is good to end a friendship, at least unofficially. Then it comes as a pleasant surprise when one's newly-wed friend explores the possibilities for an evening at the pool-table with you, or sends you a text message from Mongolia to tell you that he has found Orlando Bloom's Mongolian doppelgänger.

sulking and a smile

Rough winds do shake my balcony windows in September. I sulk. I do not need another winter right now!

In the shop, dry leaves blow in through the open door until the rain starts. A case of swine flu announces itself in a phone call. Still, happy expectancy in my smile whenever someone walks in...

turn left at the savannah

Travelling with family. A hot car, an excited little dog, kids asking when is the next icecream stop. A savannah littered with windmills, beautiful beaches, algae-smelly sea, jungle-like forests, poppies in fields, cute villages. Strong emotions. Drove me crazy. Drove me wild with joy too. I have visited yet another island... Öland, Sweden.

the decline and fall of a once-magnificent house

Found my old dollhouse and had a laugh. My niece and nephews have turned it into what appears to be a crack house. Wonder if the Extreme Makeover Home Edition team are up for a challenge?