When I came here to Japan, I was able to bring with me almost none of my belongings. Before leaving Canada I rented a storage locker, put everything in it, and set off on my overseas adventure. The trip turned out to be more of an enduring adventure than I expected, and I have now been here nearly eleven years. During that time, my books and records have been waiting in that locker.

Each time I sent the payment off for another year's rent, I thought about them sitting in that small dark room, waiting for me to come to their 'rescue'. Did the books whisper to each other, "Isn't he ever going to come back? Will we never see the light of day again?" For ten years they waited patiently, until finally one day last summer they heard the sound of a key in the lock, felt a breath of fresh air wafting through the room, and then heard my voice, "OK guys, wake up! I've come to take you away!"

I called an overseas shipping company, and they carried the pile of boxes out to a truck and drove off with them. When everything arrived at Yokohama about three weeks later, a friend and I rented a truck and brought it all home.

So all this past winter has been like an extended Christmas for me. I have been opening the boxes one by one to become reacquainted with all these old friends - records I listened to as a teenager, and books I read many years ago. I had forgotten many of them, but seeing them again brought back many pleasant memories.

And now my apartment here is starting to feel like a real place to live, not just a temporary shelter. I haven't got all the books up on shelves yet (that's going to take a few more years, I think), but it is starting to look like a library, and that's just the way I like it.

Excuse me a minute, I think I hear the telephone ringing ... Now just where did I leave that handset ...