You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.

So, Leeds is over for the next year. I’m back in Birm­ing­ham, and as of next Wed­nes­day I will have nowhere to live in the city I had got used to call­ing home. It’s quite sad really, and it didn’t really hit me until I packed all my stuff up and saw my empty room. But now I can’t stop look­ing for­ward to Spain, which should be amaz­ing! Birm­ing­ham has been pretty mundane so far (with one not­able excep­tion), since none of my friends are about, and I’ve been stricken by ter­rible hay­fever which has kept me in the house most of the time. At least it has given me time to read, and to tinker with the blog among other things.

The excep­tion was last monday, when I went along to take pho­tos of my Mum’s birth­day present to my Grandad — a day of fal­conry with a bloke on the edge of town. It was great fun, and the birds were amaz­ing creatures. I had never real­ised (or really been able to see in my ima­gin­a­tion) just how far these fal­cons can see. It’s lit­er­ally miles, of course, but until you actu­ally wit­ness it in the flesh, it’s hard to pic­ture. I got a few good pho­tos too, although my hay­fever did even­tu­all abso­lutely ruin me. A few more of my mates should be around in the next few days, so hope­fully things will liven up a bit!