The wild west and then back over the pondDay 14: Two weeks without a drop of alcohol and it feels good. Good to wake less tired in the morning, more alert during the day and less knackered in the evening.
Friday afternoon was the toughest so far as our team attended a belated 'holiday season' function with one of our friendliest markets and whilst everyone swilled good wine I sunk about 5 bottles of Pellegrini.
I'm sitting waiting for The Bears play-off game against the Seattle Seahawks to start, snow is forecast later, which I'd imagine will suit the Bears more. In fact after a lengthly spell of mild weather, the winter is expected to begin in earnest this week, troubling when I have a long day trip to Fort Smith in the heart of the Arkansas Ozark Mountains and once part of the 'wild west" on Wednesday.
Then on Thursday I leave here for my next pilgrimage home to see family, friends and the Addicks. Charlton and not drinking? It's like cheese without pickle.
After living in Chicago for four and a half years, I moved to the beautiful if bewildering island of Bermuda in July 2008. This blog is about being an exiled and depressed Charlton Athletic fan and whatever else the day brings.