Witty witticisms and other rarities.

Quiet please, I'm thinking.

Whiskey, or lack thereof.

After a month of being here our personal belongings finally arrived, what a relief that is. Funny to see all the odds and sods from our former life turning up in hastily packed boxes. All we need now is to find new homes for everything. So much of this stuff has traveled with me from one place to another, I feel I should have one of those big, old wooden trunks that pirates had back in the day. Of course, realistically, I’d need more than one.

There is so much fun to be had restocking bookshelves, in a new order, taking the time to consider each ones story; where it was purchased and for what reason, how much it cost and what had to be done to track it down. Today we went on a furniture shopping spree but nothing is delivered for a few days, time best spent riffling through the temporary home of my mini library. Then there is the music and film collection to consider too, I’ll get nothing else done for a week.

Seeing the decanters and drinks tumblers, with memories of all those hedonistic nights, brought a smile to my face. I was half hoping I had packed some whiskey for myself but, alas, though the intention was there, I know we made short work of all available spirits before we set off. Shame really as good whiskey has something of a mythical status here, where good alcohol is hard to come by and pretty expensive when found. Guess I’ll live in reverie for a while yet.

Getting away is good, but staying away is better. It takes time to adapt to the muggy, warm days followed by sticky, somewhat quiet nights. Pottering about in shorts and t-shirt, any hour of the day, is still something I enjoy. It helps to have a good book handy when its too warm to move, and now I have several hundred of them. If only I had some whiskey.

Eamon

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