The music started booming out around the neighbourhood at around 10pm. I don’t think it’s Neighbour this time, but one of the innumerable parties in the area. Well, it’s New Year’s Eve, and not all of us are laid up on the sofa, moaning about our ankles. I’ve written the Easties update, sproglet is dozing gently, and it’s time to welcome in 2004.

This next year will probably be the strangest, newest, weirdest and possibly most fulfilling year of my life. I have a new life to bring into the world, hundreds of new skills to learn, and I have to find a new job. Maybe I should have done all this 19 years ago, but then it wouldn’t have been with M, and that would be just wrong. I try not to believe in fate, but there’s such an inevitability to everything that has happened with M and the baby and our life together that it’s hard not to. I once likened the realisation that I had fallen in love with M to coming home. And it still feels like that. I’m home. Only home is going to get a little more crowded. And that’s just fine.