A week ago today, I was in Wolverhampton, England; part-way through a wonderful, wonderful Marillion weekend, with the best band and the best fans in the world, in the company of my best friend from schooldays, in the country where I was born. And then suddenly, I'm back home; the garden weeds have grown neck-high, the roses and irises are all in full bloom, the trees are green, the cat is miaouwing and sharpening her claws, I have a million photos to look at and choose from and sort and discard, the kids are here but no-one is awake so I don't want to start the noisy strimmer at seven in the morning just-because I'm still on British time and so should you be too, nor put on Marillion songs full-blast just to remember and wake everyone in the mean time, mean time yes that would be mean...
Think I'll take a drive to the garden center/centre. Back later with something meaningful ;-)
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