Excuse, if you will, the chorus of crickets that have consumed this blog these last few months.
Truth be told, I almost never made my way back here and even now it feels a little like I'm trying on an old dress that doesn't quite fit any more.
For a while there it seemed like life and it's wicked sense of humor had been pulling some of it's best moves to trip me up and send me out of step with the music. I let a few key events get the better of me until I literally stooped beneath the sad & sorry personal rain cloud I was totin'.
My bad run culminated in the death of my beloved Nana Kitty on Sunday who was, and will ever be, my hero.
Coming back to Ireland for the funeral has slid all of my bad luck into a new perspective and I realize that any heart sickness I might feel now will somehow, over time, evolve into the footnote to a new, and happier, tale.
During a particularly rotten week when I was ready to crack some skulls my family whisked me away with them for a few days in Weymouth on the South coast of England. It's incredible what a dose of sea breeze, fresh, salty lungfuls of air and several rounds of tea and crab sandwiches can do for the bluest of the blues.
So here's to wiping the slate clean, picking myself up after yet another tumble, and finding comfort in old dresses.