Beginning Again

Turning forty four sometime last year (where did the time go) seems to have been a trigger for thoughts about legacy rising to the fore in my mind, the end result of which was packing up my bags and swapping the sand dunes for Surrey. The decision being made, it still took the better part of six months to execute; lining up something this side of the dunes, rolling up the detritus of 1200 days of life and navigating notice periods amongst other things. Tnere was a lot of hand wringing, offer/counter offer and a little bit of emotional blackmail (of the good sort) but in the end what had to be done had to be done and I was on a flight heading bacck to good old Blighty.

Being back has been interesting, the key change being slowly reintegrating into the routine of domestication. Driving, bins, and all the quotidian things which make life up have become mine again, and slight irritations apart - I’ll swear blind I didn’t really mean this- it has been a good reintroduction, topped up by the delights of lots of time with L and S. Swathes of greenery all around has also been great to enjoy, cold snaps apart, as has been the ability to indulge my proclivity to dump a couple hundred pounds now and again on a used thinkpad (not much longer I suspect, seeing as the largesse from prodigaling has come to an end).

For all the noise I made about falling out of love with rust, it still pays the bills. That bit is thankfully made more interesting by being in a slightly different space than usual. My old oil and gas haunts have been swapped for something greener, along with which has come loads more reading than I have had to do in a while. There is also the small matter of taking my fascination with graphs/networks and complex systems a bit further with intermitent visits somewhere on the South coast for my sins. Between both, the mental challenge is a good one and should keep me honest for a good few years before the bug to prodigal again bites.

In retrospect, the stint of prodigaling was a lot more good than bad, though at the end it had started to feel staid. I suppose it is the curse of most prodigals to always keep an eye out on what looks like the lush greenery across the road, and weigh the benefits against the discomfort. All told, multiple trips into the continent aside, S and L are much the happier for having me in the vicinity. I suspect in the overall scheme of things that weighs much more than the pain of dealing with the taxman again after a short reprieve. In a sense, I’m still prodigaling abroad, just the small matter of a one hop prodigal, not two.