Only two months earlier I had still cried for a man who still has a strong grip on my heart. Only six weeks later I would be living on the other side of the country. Was this a time for a date? Clearly not. But do dates observe the laws of reason? Clearly not. I had a date.
There was beer. And candle light. And all sorts of other datish things. And it was good. And I added a pragmatic touch: I managed to rope Rich, for him it was, into helping me rebuild the bicycle roof. And it's back in place! Solidly; since we put it up I already had the neighbours knocking on my door, asking their trousers back; these had been ripped off their clothes line by strong winds, and deposited in my courtyard. But these winds had had nothing on my roof!
So now what? Strangely enough, I write this during our second date. Sometimes blogging leads to strange parallel realities. This date is good too! And what will happen when I leave for Bangor? No way of knowing...
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