welcome back cotter

i get that song in my head every once in a while. it makes me smile and chuckle and wonder how i missed that john travolta had a role in a television series when he was much younger.

i am back in cork, mandy is happily in London. She has sent me an update that she's on her way back to Cork (much the same way as a magnet finds the keys your four-year-old cousin buried in the backyard sand pit Cork is able to pull people back to it that have stayed longer than a week) in a weeks time (Monday week, as they say in Ireland).

that song was in my head as I sat down with my cup of tea and browsed the archives to find a couple of comments i had forgotten to reply to (a big thanks, by the way, to Shabu and Grant! Mandy and I love the comments). Perhaps it was my subconscience subtly bringing to mind my reluctance to record events of the past weeks, or perhaps it was the window i had open in youtube with the theme song to Cotter playing we'll never know; regardless, the song was in my head to stay. So, armed with no idea where this post is going to go, i have sat myself down and started clicking away.

i could talk about how mandy and i and jackie and andrea spent three days in Paris being, as mandy puts it, French. I could talk about the funny man who kicked us out of a restaurant because, as far as we could tell, we wanted to sit at a table, or i could talk about the Canadian family we met at a kabab place how turned out to be from St. Mary's (or at least the Mrs was from there. Dad, if you could, look up the name Van Fleet. That spelling is mine, not hers, and they now live in Brampton), or i could tell you about the wonderful friends we made and the places we slept.

I could and I can and I will but you will have to wait.