Once upon a time when I worked from home, when Nor’West gales would blow on Thursdays, coughing impossible wind gusts at our hillside, I would wake to the sound of migration. The plastic scrape as one after another the morning’s recycling bins yielded to the wind and began to shamble towards Cook Strait. I don’t know if they ever made it, or whether they all fell short, stranded in gardens and trapped against fences. But, with the exception of the neighbour’s bin (cruelly tethered to their letterbox), they never stopped trying.
Instinct is a strong thing. (Come to think of it, so are Nor’Westerly Gales.)
Anyhow, I have an old, more political, blog that a change in circumstances means I’m going to have to leave be for a while. So this is the replacement. On it I am going to talk about arthritis and heart problems (both of which I have), and travel and surfing (both of which I wish I was doing).
I’m also going to migrate some of my old blog’s health related posts over here over the next few days.
