The shoe fits.

When your best laid plans get messed with (yikes - that's yank-speak), it's amazing how confused you can become about what your plan actually was.

Since this stone-in-the-boot border crap escapade I have brought into question some of the broader questions of the universe, as well as 'Why don't I give up?', or 'How am I going to eat?'. You know what I have decided?

I'm just plain ol' going to go for the road less travelled, as recommended by Mr. Lambert before I left. Who cares if I have to do a little body-selling on the side? Not me!

I have been a little incommunicado about what's been happening in Seattle, but suffice it to say that i've popped out the other side having a) refused a job offer teaching here because it was all too hard, b) remembered what the hell i'm doing all this for, and c) to have my spiel all ready for crossing over.

And that room in that house looks so good at the moment I could just eat it.

And if I don't get back my new plants will die.