On Sunday after Me & Dad got back from the Activator gig, Mum proposed something that had not occurred to me in the many months I have been "at home".
Between 1985 and 2001 Dad ran a business, from home and the room he ran it from has ever been "the office". Since K of E has had some initial successes, and since I am now a "freelance artist", she proposed to turn the office over to my purposes and today, it was done.
We spent the morning moving bits of furniture in and out, down and up the stairs. Surely, there were arguments over what goes where (Mum is an expert space-saver), but not so many arguments that we fell out. I am no longer just a 28-year old man who lives with his parents. I am a 28-year old man who lives with his parents and has an office. It is a modest improvement, but an important one.
The office, hereafter "Bowes Industries", overlooks the back garden, a field, and a hill; a view which, in this late Autumn, early Winter light, looks quite remarkable. Today I feel like a lucky man rather than a cornered one.