Well readers, for those who have stuck with me, you'll have noticed a paucity in posts, as I have been a combination of uninspired and very busy in the past few months.
Quite simply I can put it down to real life consuming my time and energy to an extent that meant that, beyond outing Gareth Morgan for his naivete over North Korea, my attention has been elsewhere.
In part it has been work, which from May till early December kept me mostly consumed for a good bit over 40 hours a week.
In part it has been the drawn out process of jumping onto the London property bubble (which still isn't over).
However, it has also been time and energy taken by four trips in under six months to New Zealand to help and be with my terminally ill father, and help my stressed and regularly distraught mother.
So for now, I'd like to talk about my Dad, as he remains with us, albeit not as active or as cheerful as he usually is.
I'd advise you to not read any further if you are squeamish or easily upset. What comes includes some graphic descriptions of his condition.
