More dust settles as the old Chinese curse, 'May you live in interesting times,' rolls on.  It looks as if my spot in the Arieas area of Estoril will become a thing, as I have signed a rental contract.  My self-imposed, presumptive exile has extended to AT LEAST 21 January 2029 starting 20 January 2025.  Thus, I will need a cozy spot to endure such.  A place to write my comics, a place to garden, and a spot where a canine companion or two can cohabitate with me.  If I need a spot to provide refuge for me and mine, that too.  I will need to furnish it and, pending the arrival of my art, decorate it.  My time at the flawed furnished temporary spot to see if the USA would do the wrong thing is ending.  Good riddance.  The location was quite good, but the person in charge of it SUCKED.  The person in charge of said spot had not addressed the problem with the garage door, which was the decisive factor in my leaving, even if that means I may wind up paying rent on two spots for 3 or 4 months.  This is despite the Princess saying I should not move to the new spot.  Her comments were truly clueless ('It's so dark,' HUH?).  

Quite a bit of time has passed since I composed the above paragraph, and oh so much has happened (though admittedly more outside of my bubble than in it).  Hair Furor has proved me right: he is a fascist who is bound and determined to warp the USA into a dictatorship.  I am glad I am not in the USA, nor will I ever return as long as he and his ilk are in charge PERIOD.  In fact, Democracy died in the USA on March 15 when Hair Furor pulled an Andrew Jackson, as his ICE Abteilung flouted a federal judge's order.  I truly fear that when I left the USA on January 16, 2025, it would be my last time