|Image from here|
I feel that I owe some sort of explanation, and have decided to say, more so that I have a record of having said it than anything, that: These last 12 months defeated me in a flat on my face with a mouth full of dirt kind of a way; and then dusted me off and dressed my wounds and left me transformed. And, like a Transformer* (the morphing robots, not the power supply for downlights): this side of the transformation is better. Definitely better.
So this a farewell to that poor dead horse I flogged for so long, with gratitude for how far it got me before it died; and a tally ho (the urging call, not the cigarette paper) as I saddle up a new horse and a new year and move forward.
It's nice to be back.
*Disclaimer: I owe having a Transformer related metaphor in my blog to the big and small men in my life, who unabashedly love Transformers and who have apparently subliminally implanted Transformers upon me. And when I say Transformers, I refer to the cartoons and comics of my childhood, and not the modern movies, which I am led to believe, are something of an abomination.