What's four months in the world of blogging, eh? Well, I'm not entirely back. I'm finishing off a load of radio talks for recording at the BBC in Bristol this Tuesday. That's "finishing off" in a rather broad sense, yanow.
I can't believe it's come to this. I've had over a year to write them. Maybe I just enjoy the fear. Others get it from base jumping. I get it from staring down deadlines.
Ah well, they'll come good. Right now I'm wired on coffee, chocolate and cigarettes and my fingers ache from typing. In the meantime, here's who I've been sharing my bedroom with for a while. Matilda the merlin. She's destined for an aviary that's not quite finished, so I'm looking after her on behalf of my boy. She's a feisty little sod. Living with an imprint parrot and a mellow goshawk makes you forget some rather important things about merlins. Like, they bite. Try cleaning this one's beak after she's eaten and you remember it. Noli me tangere, dude!
Here she is having a good old preen and oil. She prefers the bow, before you ask. And before you even think of asking, those bags are full of old clothes destined for a charity shop. I don't keep the rubbish in my room.