A season of nostalgia

Winter may be the season of our discontent, but autumn seems to be that of nostalgia. Apologies for a vague post, I am battling the flu and am not exactly witty and sparkling (embarking on a whiskey cure shortly). Erin and I have been drinking mulled wine (aka glögg - although the Marks & Spencer version is far stronger than the old Swedish supermarket edition that was a staple of my last autumn diet) and remembering how we felt in autumns past. It seems we're not alone - I have had several notes from Sweden asking when I will be there next, and I've been dreaming of faraway places and plotting travels (China, then Sweden, then Prague). Ben & Erin just got back from New York and have hatched a crazy scheme to move there as soon as possible. I'm kicking that idea around for a while, but it would mean I could see the Chrysler building every day.

I'm also going way back in time to my days as a 'photographer' (don't laugh). Digging out my ancient camera bag (my camera is older than me) I found flyers from university bands I used to shoot (DJ Spooky at The Zoo, anyone?). Erin and I have upgraded to digital SLRs and are desperately trying not to look like amateurs. It's funny, it's awoken something in me I'd forgotten about - at least there is more to life than shopping and Saturday wines (not that there is anything wrong with that). I have also had job opportunities suddenly spring out of the woodwork, and an opportunity to do an internship in another part of the Corporation (sadly, not with David Tennant as far as I know, although ripples of excitement have been pervading my Facebook page upon the news that he is at least single now).

The other night I was on the tube and an old man was blessing everyone at the station and then methodically every carriage on the Central Line. I took it as a kind of sign - of what, I don't know yet, but at least right now I'm happy to wait and find out.