Memories are a funny old thing, they sneak up on you and then jump out when you're least expecting them. A smell from your childhood, a tune from a good holiday, an old photo. With the 8th rapidly approaching work has become a rather painful de-ja-vu at the moment, memories I'd hoped to forget are back and real once more. The person who would understand, no longer here. It's nice to remember the good times, the bad ones not so much