The last of the school going children started today. She left before we even woke up. No photo taking family outing for her (we did that last year).

This heralds autumn proper. It's getting dark before bedtime. It's a bit colder. We don't have the widnow open all the time. I need to replace that broken pane in the back door. So it goes.

I have managed, by doing that countdown thing, to make myself nervous about my birthday. Only a week to go and I haven't anticipated my anniversary so much since I was twelve. Twelve! A new racer! A skateboard helmet! Going to see Close Encounters! The movie was boring and we didn't have anywhere good to skateboard, but the bike lasted me a good while. Anyway. What? Nevermind. I've mentally placed myself in my forties for a while now, so the age thing isn't really a big deal, but I've sort of made it so, by turning it into my own private new year's eve.

But fuck that noise. We're going to Venice where we can, should we wish to, get drunk at two in the afternoon and only have to worry about falling into the canals. Or we can visit the boring adult museum-y places that kids never want to see and gaze upon art and cultural objects. Perhaps while drunk. I'm also hoping for sex. And then when I come back I will have a gathering with two dozen of my friends and bathe in the warm glow of their alcohol fueled affection for me.

There'll also be a work related trip to Bolton in there somewhere, but I'll try not to let that get me down too much.