News Bulletin: What's Been Happening Since the End of the Rainbow Tour, or Wasting Away in Mediocreville (English / Cornnish / Welsh / Spanish)

Coming home from a trip overseas is hard. No matter how long I've travelled, no matter how tired I've gotten, no matter how much I wanted to be in my own little nest somewhere halfway along the trip, once the trip begins drawing to a close I begin to feel like I'm coming to the end of a really good book, and I just don't want to turn the last page. I had lots of trepidation at the onset of this trip. I was trying to close on an investment property, terrorists were bombing London, my travel hub, den yowynk noweth o yn ow bewnans ha kysyor ha caryor pur da o ve, and my good friend Bill was still not out of the hospital. I had more reasons to stay at home than take this trip, but at the very last minute, struggling with myself in the airpport, I steeled myself against anxiety and climbed aboard. The first couple weeks were frought with more anxiety, but they were well worth it in the end. As the end of the trip approached, I was, as always sad to be leaving.

After the return, like every time, I had to readjust to life in Mediocreville. Schenectady is not the Llŷn, isn't Rennes, isn't Hamburg, and the reality was that when I came back, I would be thrown back into the old swing of things, and that includes all the little troubles haunting the edge of my otherwise long quiet river.

Whenever I first return, there is always this disorientation; it was slight this time, but nonetheless present with aspect ranging from the real to the psychological, for example getting used to driving on the right again and to not hearing Welsh everyday. Since I've been back I've also been spending a lot of time on the phone, trying to close on this second house, finding that I'm beset with the results of other peoples' incompetence and ignorance, and it's costing me time and money, and with the onset of the semester time is more precious than money right now.

Ha wosa dos tre ple yma an caryor? Ia, ev o omma, ow cara avel just rak seythun mes lemmyn yma ev yn le aral, ow kewsel dhymm war'n pellgowser mebyl py war'n jynn-amontya, mes nyns yu omma gensi ple my a vyn ev. Ta waith mae mwy nag un pysg yn y mor...

I've been catching up with old friends ha hep an caryor noweth caryoryon koth dhe gonfortya ow colonn trist and readjusting to a life quite a bit less thrilling than my travel life. I'm sure after the annoying little vicissitudes of the coming weeks are hammered out, when I have tenants in the new house and I've sung Luz de luna enough times dhe ankevy an den yowynk noweth, as well as burbled enough bourbon through a sufficient number of coktail parties and minor social gatherings, I will be able to find the rose moments a little more easily. Now, it's back to reality and back to the day to day battled to get the universe to comply with my wishes; I want to keep the course of my river flowing smoothly...