Back on the exile express

I'm on my second train of the evening, and will be for the next three hours or so, heading back to 'domicile-ville'. Oh joy abounding. It is, to an extent, a measure of how screwed up our lifestyle is at the moment - if my car was on the road, I wouldn't have had to leave home until 9:00 in the morning, but there's no immediate prospect, outside of a winning lottery ticket, of that situation changing any time soon. Complaining won't change it either, of course, so I suppose I should just wind my neck in and get on with it. After all, I'm only going to be away for a mere 12 days this time, rather than the month of my last sojourn in the Home Counties.
Obviously, given that I'm posting this, any fleeting thoughts of my beating a hasty retreat from Blogland after the disappointment of the past day and a half have quickly been banished. Ultimately, I'm blogging for my own reasons, so there was no self-evident motivation for giving up, or, indeed, for changing my policy of honesty, much as I might have been tempted to begin airbrushing my image so as to avoid alienating anyone else. The damage has been done, anyway.
So, in the spirit of that adherence to the truth, I'll just say that I was treated, in the first few minutes after leaving home en route to the man line station to begin my journey, to the sight of three - count them - absolutely delicious cuties, two of them assuredly too young, but still lovely to look at. A little recompense for both missing E the other day, and for my next chunk of life away from sunny Cornwall. Things are rarely completely negative, if I'm being honest.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B