Home Again

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I’m penning this in my notebook sat in the cafe upstairs watching a harsh wind rattle the rusty leaves on the trees outside the window. There is a chill in the air today foretelling of the oncoming winter, but spots of sunlight are still pushing through to warming patches of Plymouth. That is where I am sat now – in one of those warmer patches.

Over the last couple of days I have been re-cooperating from my trip up, and then down, and then up the country. Tamzyn and her girlfriend took me for long walks in the Yorkshire countryside; we ate at carverys, and enjoy a night out in Bradford, and during the day I was too amused to write. On the train journey to Yorkshire I made notes for a book review, which will be posted sometime this week. My mother is recovering well from her operation, although her feet are both covered in bandages, and she has a strange propeller type device protruding from the middle toe of her left foot. She’s spent a good few weeks hobbling on crutches stuck indoors, but her bandages have finally been removed, and my father has rented a wheelchair as a means of comfortable mobility outside. Unfortunately, she’ll still be bundled up in stockings for another three weeks, but my little sister is on hand in Newport to assist her needs at the moment, and she seems happier than she has been for a long time. Time away from the stresses of commuting to work has done her good. She and my father are hoping to escape to Switzerland again in three or four weeks to find accommodation and sort through the particulars of moving country. To celebrate the big-move, we’ll all, my sisters and I and our parents, will be meeting in London in October for a weekend, so I should see the folks again before they disappear to pastures new in late November.

Meanwhile, it’s nice to be back home despite my previously mentioned new resident in my bedroom, who, for anyone keeping interest, is still there. I had work on Saturday, and today I had offering obligations to fill, and I met with Andreas for a coffee (when I say coffee, I mean hot-beverages, because neither of us ever actually have coffee). Tomorrow I have a number of mundane, but necessary tasks to perform, and then I have a meeting with some friends. And writing. Always writing.

It’s good to be home.

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