A crazy night of wakefulness: it's a test, that's what it is! Does she have the stamina to take an overnight flight after having far too few sleep hour from the previous night under her belt? Does she? and more importantly, can she still enjoy the one and only day she has given herself in London on so little sleep?
These are the suspense questions I leave for you and for myself for today and tomorrow.
There's more: how the heck did I manage to book a connection with an eight hour layover in Detroit? Here I have an easy answer. I'm using up Ed's miles on this trip and beggars can't be fussy: this is the best I could do for myself.
And now the upside, because believe me, there is always an upside (please know that whenever I say this, I am excepting days of poor health: there aren't many upsides to poor health). I surely have time to post!
Up early, with plenty of time to pack my tiny case. And it remains half empty. I have a lot of train travel ahead and light packing makes this a fun way to keep moving.
We eat breakfast. Leisurely, in the sun room. A bigger one for Ed as it's our last meal together for a while. I'm thinking -- I must make it grand and memorable! It is. Both. (I did ask him if he wanted a haircut before I left; he balked. Honestly -- I was glad: I love his hair as it expands wildly in all directions.)
The cheepers come to say goodbye (or so I project onto them). They hang out forever on the front mat. I'm glad they like it, but its usefulness as a doormat will diminish if they keep leaving for us souvenirs of their visit there. But who can fuss today! It's sunny, warm, they're in their happy spring mode.
And then it is time to go. One tiny detour -- to return a sweater my daughter left at the farmhouse. And to peek. Just peek in on a girl who herself seems to be catching up on sleep. Be good to your family, and to yourself, little one!
And I'm off. I'm leaving Wisconsin at her most glorious moment: the snow is gone, the hope of spring is palpable.
(By contrast, Michigan, across the great lake, has yet to rid itself of all snow.)
I am in transit. Waiting for that last flight scheduled to leave this airport tonight. My flight. To London.
These are the suspense questions I leave for you and for myself for today and tomorrow.
There's more: how the heck did I manage to book a connection with an eight hour layover in Detroit? Here I have an easy answer. I'm using up Ed's miles on this trip and beggars can't be fussy: this is the best I could do for myself.
And now the upside, because believe me, there is always an upside (please know that whenever I say this, I am excepting days of poor health: there aren't many upsides to poor health). I surely have time to post!
Up early, with plenty of time to pack my tiny case. And it remains half empty. I have a lot of train travel ahead and light packing makes this a fun way to keep moving.
We eat breakfast. Leisurely, in the sun room. A bigger one for Ed as it's our last meal together for a while. I'm thinking -- I must make it grand and memorable! It is. Both. (I did ask him if he wanted a haircut before I left; he balked. Honestly -- I was glad: I love his hair as it expands wildly in all directions.)
The cheepers come to say goodbye (or so I project onto them). They hang out forever on the front mat. I'm glad they like it, but its usefulness as a doormat will diminish if they keep leaving for us souvenirs of their visit there. But who can fuss today! It's sunny, warm, they're in their happy spring mode.
And then it is time to go. One tiny detour -- to return a sweater my daughter left at the farmhouse. And to peek. Just peek in on a girl who herself seems to be catching up on sleep. Be good to your family, and to yourself, little one!
And I'm off. I'm leaving Wisconsin at her most glorious moment: the snow is gone, the hope of spring is palpable.
(By contrast, Michigan, across the great lake, has yet to rid itself of all snow.)
I am in transit. Waiting for that last flight scheduled to leave this airport tonight. My flight. To London.
