Am attempting to wind down with a glass or 2 of wine, enjoying the calm before the hurricane that will be the next week-and-a-half. This will be our official jump from the London ship, although I'll be spending more time in New Cross than Bromsgrove (temporary residence until we get our new place sorted) over the next week-and-a-half, wrapping up a few spots of work and a ton of admin in-between fitting in Faber duties and getting as much sleep as an inflatable mattress in a deserted flat 127 miles away from my beautiful fiancee will allow. Am I going to miss London? Not really - I'll be in Bloomsbury on a weekly basis anyway. Am I going to miss New Cross? Am I bollocks. Bring on the countryside, the beautiful small Warwickshire town that will shortly be our new home, the absence of nightly police cars and helicopters, no more major flava's bleeding from the windows of every big-bored chav-waggon rolling past, no more dog-fighting wannabe yardies, no more walking up 3 flights of stairs to get to my front door and DEFINITELY no more sodding Lewisham NHS. Yes, I'll miss my London friends terribly, although most of them seem to quite rightly see our move as basically providing a rural holiday home in which they'll always be welcome - the more frequently the better as far as I'm concerned.
Hopefully we'll be getting a definite answer about our intended new residence in Alcester over the next day or so, in which case Helen will undoubtedly be providing a better description of the house and town we want to start raising Dylan in than I could. She's just got out of the bath and looks all wet and lovely, so I'm off to give her a cuddle. Night night!
Alex aka Babydaddy
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