Nexus

Yesterday was magical.

Living in our new house that is actually close to some of our friends has been as liberating as we'd hoped. On this sunny Sunday, we entertained two separate sets of casual visitors; walked the beach and watched aerobatics over the bay; ate both breakfast and dinner out, and in company; and spent the evening carousing at a table for ten.

It's a whole new life, and I'm loving it.

Coming Back

There’s a warm mist lying over the bay. It diffuses the floodlights of St Helen’s into a soft, ambient glow, turning the whole sky silver. In the half-light of dusk, people are lighting fires on the beach, so that the crisp sea-salt air is warmed with woodsmoke. In the dunes, a couple kiss. At the shoreline, an old man walks a young dog. If you find the right spot on the coast road, all that can be heard is the tumble of surf, the yapping of the pup, and a distant, lonely foghorn.

And I remember why I loved this place, and why I may yet do so once again.

Back in Jack

Hmm, yes... there were supposed to be house-related updates. Bum.

Okay, so here's the gen. Hev's place is sold, gone, and we move into the new place, in Uplands, together, in the first week of March. All who merit a personal update will get one by some means or other. My place didn't sell, still trying, will probably have to rent.

So a ten-year residence in Cardiff draws to a close, though I'll only be down the road, really. The chance to be nearer to people that I care about is really exciting. There will even be parks to go for walks in, and stuff.

As you can tell I'm not too comfortable with this mundanity-bulletin stuff. I'll try to find something actually interesting to write soon.

The Mice Were Furious

H took me to see the Swansea Little Theatre's production of "Of Mice & Men" last night, as a coda to my birthday pampering. I'd never seen it on stage and was very impressed; particularly, I'm delighted to say, with my old mucker Brian Willis in the role of Candy. George and Lennie were also perfectly cast and both played the emotional arpeggios perfectly; and Rhian Matthews brought her own fan club, which must surely now grow.

Wooly Thinking

Me ol' mucker (literally, in this case) Leila, who works down on the Swansea Community Farm, has asked me to point both my readers in the direction of her very clever sheep. Any publicity is good publicity, after all.

Perhaps now a few more people will believe my story about having once seen a Swansea sheep look both ways before crossing a road? It's a tall tale, I grant - there are, after all, plenty of higher primates in Townhill that haven't mastered that!

True though. Scout's Honour.