See? I told you. He's fine.
Moving to the latitude known as the 'Roaring 40's', after turning 40, seemed like a satisfyingly poetic thing to do, and god knows these are the kinds of nonsensical whims that dictate my life choices, though I'm happy to report that the wind has thus far been behaving itself.

Unsurprisingly, it's been a busy few months with all the standard life chaos and unintended consequences that moving from one side of a country to another entails - in my case that translated to a confused and anxious hound and a lot of very startled baby cockroaches (look, if you're ignorant about where those creepers hide themselves when they're young and wee, count yourself lucky....suffice to say I probably dislodged about 30 from out of the nooks and crannies in the base of my electric kettle alone).

Translocated tropical bugs aside, however, the last few weeks have seen me being subjected to exactly none of the stresses this kind of thing generally entails, and that I was mentally gearing up for. None. Nada. Zip. I got a great job straight away, I found a cheap and convenient house in a really nice part of greater Hobart during the busy lead up to Christmas. My stuff arrived intact. My long suffering travel-hound is fine. To be fair, catastrophe humour does make for more entertaining reading but I'll do my best under the circumstances. Just imagine those cockroaches some more, if it helps.

But, now that the hectic flurry of remembering where I live, buying covered shoes, gardening,  cooking, furniture hunting and de-roaching are done with,  it's time to start thinking autumn thoughts...above and beyond catching up on all the Netflix shows I missed while I was waiting to get the internet connected. With a little bit of planning and direction here's hoping I can mostly avoid a winter that's mired in excessive cider consumption and on-demand TV binges. Or not...I mean, the cider is really good here after all!

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