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Midway through last year, I moved house. That's not hugely interesting in itself I know - everyone moves house at some point - but this was a big one, out of my old, rural family home and into a place of my own. Little country boy Chris in the big city, fresh off the tractor, all dewey-eyed and open-mouthed at the bright lights and bustling noise of the metropolis.OK that description may have been dramatised in places but forgive me, it's been a weird few months. House moves, being what they are, often bring with them an uncomfortably up-close look at one's life trajectory and that, very easily, turns into a spot of self-reflection. Oli, for example, turned those reflections on his gaming clutter into some very nice thoughts on the benefits of life after console generations. My reflections aren't really that smart. But I do have them! For me, the thing looking back at me during that big ugly look in the mirror was a little boy who really loves Pokémon.
This is all setting me up rather nicely for a very long, very detailed retelling of my life story through some kind of Poké...lens. That's not going to happen but you'll be glad to know I do have a nice anecdote for you - and there's even a moral to the story, too!
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