Apr 09

I meant that metaphorically. But not in the sense of it being a metaphor for danger, just that things are hotting up. Literally, not metaphorically. None of this makes any sense.

You see, I’ve just spent nine days at home,and although I was glad it barely rained on me, it was still a wee bit chilly. Even though it was the end of March – and indeed, the news was full of stories about the balmy weather – it’s still a shock after 15 years in Louisiana.

Now I’m back in New Orleans and the summer is lurking at the door, stamping its feet and rapping on the window, begging to get in. We will be well into the 80s this week, and for the next four months or whatever it’s only going to get worse. Or stay the same. But not get cooler anyway.

I had a great time in Belfast. It’s always good to get home and see your family and friends, and, even, better, I got to see Northern Ireland win two games! I saw us win back-to-back competitive matches, something I hadn’t done in ages. So I researched how long it had been. You know when it was? November 1984! Almost 35 years! Isn’t that incredible? Admittedly I’ve lived over here for close on half that time, but still… worth the journey home in itself probably.

As it happens, I’ll be back again in June. Two visits in the space of 10 weeks or so, when I once went three years without going home. Times change I guess, just like the weather changes from Northern Europe to Southern America (I thought I’d end on a laboured, tangled analogy just to tie everything together).

Til next time…

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