Isn't It Funny...

... how a little taste of home can make you realise what you're missing?

I got the first of my birthday cards a day early. It was from my brother D, a lil shite at one stage when he was a toddler, but one of the people I feel closest too in the big bad world. I opened it even though I knew I should wait til today and just reading the To L (Flemwad) etc., sent a sudden pang of something through me. I knew I would miss my family and friends when I moved but as they were all at stages of their lives where there were new things happening, I didn't think it would be such a big deal - after all, we have so many ways to say hi in this wonderful, digital age. I cried for a short while; sharp, bitter tears.

 I am a prat for crying, I know. I miss the way he moves steadily through life (can't think of the word I am after here, but it is past 1 a.m., H wanted me to stop up so she could say Happy Birthday you old cripple (she's a dear, she even danced as she sang it)), his hairy legs (all the better to pull at) and his hugs. Bah Humbug - I am going to bed.