Yes, faithful readers: your truant blogger has returned from the fleshpots of the northern hemisphere, having bounced around England and Ireland and Scotland like a crazed blowfly in a bottle. I had a marvellous time, I met a lot of charming people and I read poetry at many of them. And I saw a lot of rain, with water falling promiscuously off mountains and chuckling in brooks and rivers and lying about in fields as if it had nothing better to do. It's nice to know it still exists somewhere.

And despite some good intentions (we all know what they lead to), I didn't blog at all. That was a very pleasant thing not to do for a month, and I'm all the better for it. I even managed, mostly, to stay away from the theatre, although I confess that I did pop into the Donmar Warehouse to see a version of Calderon's Life is a Dream (starring Dominic West, who might be known to some of you as McNulty from The Wire, as Sigismundo). It featured an impressively elegant adaptation by Helen Edmundson and some of that brilliantly precise and skilled British acting, but was much less comfortable with its physical theatre aspects; and the Ruritania cossies (the actors seemed constantly in danger of tripping over their swords) and its undeveloped sound design did make me long rather for Australian design culture.

Now I'm back at my desk, feeling that my body is still somewhere in Central Asia and punishing me for leaving it behind, and studying a large pile of mail with deep suspicion, in case it bites me. And I'm straight back into it: theatre dates are already filling my diary, and I'm catching up on what I missed.

For those interested, I guess I reached some sort of decision while I was away. I'm unlikely to stop blogging altogether, and always intended to see out this year. However, I will wind TN back next year in order to focus on my work, rather than everybody else's. I wrote out a list of unfinished and upcoming projects - novels, theatre works, epic poems - and it added up to nine works in progress. Yes, that's crazy, but I want to finish at least some of them; and that means that I will keep the blog for fewer and longer meditations, and stop attempting to blog everything I see. And we'll see what happens.

Thanks for the good wishes expressed, public and private. In answer to one correspondent here: no, I won't open this blog to others, except in the small dialogic instances already established. This blog has always been just me, and that's why it's worked; it's one of the conditions of bloggishness. My waters (see above) tell me that the internet is changing again; I've never wanted to tweet, which for my purposes only strikes me as useful for haiku, but perhaps the halcyon days of extensive blogs are drawing to an end. Who knows? I will be watching with as much interest as anyone else. Meantime, it's great to be back in Melbourne. I hope you all know what a brilliant city this is.