New arrival

Sorry for the delay; yesterday I woke up at my friend's place in London with a bit of a hangover so came back to St Albans as quick as I could and just vegged out on the sofa. My parents have Sky which is perfect hangover recovery material. I watched Malcolm in the Middle all day. That show is genius. There is a scene towards the end of one episode where Malcolm's mum is reassuring him that he's a nice boy and not the monster he thinks he's becoming. Wiping away a tear, she gives him a playful stroke on the head and sends him to bed. 'Night mum', he replies and then walks out of the bathroom. The camera pans out and Malcolm walks past his dad who has been sitting on the loo the whole time reading a newspaper. 'Night dad', says Malcolm casually. 'Night son.' Brilliant.
I started to feel human again so took a stroll through town down to my old local, the Farriers Arms. It was good to be back. When I arrived it was fairly quiet so I sat at a stool at the bar, chatted a little bit with the landlord and slowly sipped my pint. A window was open and the sun was setting. It was very peaceful. Not quite one of those moments where everything becomes clear but something still quite special. I chatted to some friends about my plans. An American chap who's been living in the UK for ten years or so gave me some good advice about tyring to slowly up the intensity of what I do. Making more calls each day etc. He got engaged a few weeks ago so we shook hands, clinked glasses. Around midnight he came back in with the good news that a couple everyone knows had just had their first child, a baby girl. Everyone cheered. By then I was drunk again. The landlady came out with a big bowl of stew and everyone who was still there had a midnight feast. Sometimes England can be the best place in the world.