Summertide

The yearly period of flux and uncertainty, that so many others name Summer, is almost upon us, in a dazzling cacophony of confusion, and unlike many people I feel little love for this season.

For half a decade now it has heralded vast, earth-shattering, yet utterly lethargic changes in my life. Not a summer has passed since 2005 in which I have not either moved apartments, or indeed country, and this year will be no different. If you would care to cast your minds back a year, you will remember that at one point I inhabited three homes, not including my official residence chez the parents. This year is slightly better, as I have only two apartments to my name. Actually, this year is a lot better, as the leases in no way overlap, but as I'm moving in with a friend I will be able to store my accoutrements in the new place before my month-long dalliance with the UK, and rent out the current place to some stranger from the internet. This is something I have much experience in doing - which reminds me I have yet to write accounts about any of them and their crazy ways - so should theoretically pass with little mishap. For those naysayers and doom-bringers among you, please see above under Lawyer, My.

Those of you who thought that was a link, sorry, but you are a muppet.

I'm looking forward to this forthcoming sojourn back in the Old Country. Anyone in North Wales mid-August is more than welcome to come and join Sean and I at our nice little cottage for tea and biscuits. Then I'm off with the family from 20/08 to 04/09, so I probably won't see anyone in August, but in September with any luck I'll get a chance to meet up with you dirty people who read this rubbish, and hopefully a lot more who don't.