THE PRODIGAL SON

Rembrandt, The prodigal son (Эрмитаж)

The obvious paradox of blogs, is that if you're somebody to whom lots of fascinating things happen, you probably don't have the time to write about it every day. Conversely, if nothing ever happens to you, you have plenty of time to write, but about what? So, does this mean to say, or at least to suggest, that if you haven't heard about me for 2 years, 6 months and 14 days, it's because my life finally got interesting? And consequently, now that it has become boring again, I can't wait to share it with you?

Well, not quite. Certainly, a lot has happened during my time in the wilderness (I might tell you about it some day), but it shouldn't have been enough to keep me off the keyboard so consistently. And paradoxically, I am now busier than I've been in years (I might tell you about that too), and yet I feel the need, and most importantly the energy, to start posting again.

Dear reader, I know all cannot be forgiven in an instant. After all, I left you to live the wild life far from the internet, and I can only imagine how much you have suffered, waiting day after day for a new post. Maybe, Heaven forbid, you have started reading some other blog. I shudder at the thought; how can you be so fickle? But hey, let's not quarrel, today is a day for celebration. Bring out the fatted calf, Abraham is back!