After a short hiatus, here I am in Philadelphia.
The short hiatus includes: (a) Many more hours of watching Beemer and Bubble attack each other happily. (b) Going to Dublin the night before my transatlantic
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flight and smashing my right thumb with my suitcase. Don’t ask me how I achieved this unusual exploit. I’m still astonished. (c) Flying transatlantic business class on Continental. I strongly recommend the fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies that turned up as we were flying south of Greenland. (d) Rain. Rain in NY, rain here in Philly. Ick. (e) Five boxes full of books that I have to sign tonight before I sleep. Don’t ask what my signature’s going to look like in the morning. (“Worse than it does at the moment? Impossible,” I can just hear P. saying.
He’s not here, of course: a sane choice on his part, though I miss him something awful. But tagging along on a signing tour has to be one of the least exciting things in the world. In a strange way I wish I were where he is now — home watching the kittens scrag each other. Sigh…
