Questions

Well, it has been a long time since last I wrote, hasn't it?

I just stumbled across my blog from all those moons ago, inbetween checking the Liverpool score and getting sucked into countless inane 'drunk NY Eve' photo galleries on Facebook. I'd forgotten all about it (the blog, not New Year's Eve), and it all seemed a bit, well, unfinished. There I was, in the middle of my rehabilitation, getting bored out of my tiny mind down the gym, and then I just left it - and its follower (hello Mum) - hanging.

There were so many unanswered questions. What was wrong with my feet? Would I go to Thailand? Could I ever finish my knee exercises? Did I get another new phone? Did I ever get to fulfil my stag do fantasy? Did I cut my hair again? Would I stop whinging? And would I ever, ever play for the mighty Union Street again?

Well, I fear there may be more questions than answers, as Johnny Nash once sang, but, over the coming weeks, I'm willing to resurrect this thing, and you can find out just how my knee has faired in the last 19 months...