Away

I like the word hiatus.  It smacks of science from the ancient world and reminds me of what many Greek and Roman men would do in their spare time without fear of anyone batting an eyelid.

And a hiatus, I'm about to take.

In the early hours of tomorrow morning, Phyllis and I shall drive down to Bournemouth.  I expect to stay there about a month and will, more than likely, be there for the birth of my first great niece or great nephew.  Exciting!  Nice to be a great uncle!  Even a great uncle!

Ian will stay with me for a day before returning home sans moi et nos chiennes.  In the middle of July, he'll visit me chez Maman for a weekend, then, towards the end of the month, come to collect me again, bring me home, perhaps for a night or two, before the four of us go on a seven day holiday to Ireland.

I'm so excited, I could vomit, dear reader.

In England, I plan on going to the beach, playing bingo, visiting old pals, seeing my family and having some quality time with Mumsy-wumsy. In Ireland, I plan on touring the whole fucking island and, hopefully, bumping into a few folks along the way.  On the itinerary so far: Dublin, Waterville, somewhere wee in County Galway and Belfast.

Je retournerai.