I'm Baaaaaack!!! At Least for the Moment....

Not that anybody may have noticed, but I've been out and about this week (or as our Scots friends might say, oot and aboot) in this great country of ours. Well, in Texas at any rate, which actually still considers itself a separate country. (And where nobody seems to think anything of building a luggshery hotel right next to a fargin railroad crossing, thereby guaranteeing that the guests hear every single farookin train that rolls through during the night.)

No doubt it's same ol' same ol' for some folks, but my travels included four flights in four days and three hotels in three separate cities in three nights, and I am utterly exhausted.

In addition, I woke up this morning (in Houston) with an extreme wrench in the left side of my neck. I dunno if this was the result of my having slept in an odd position, or whether it's the result of my obsessive clutching of my seatbelt during all those flights I've taken this week.

Now before Mrs. P and others start hurling snarks at me, I will say again that yes, I have a terrible fear of flying. Yes, I know it's completely irrational, but there it is. (On the other hand, I'm convinced that it's only other people's immense stupidity and self-obsession that keeps them from understanding things the way I do - i.e. that it is only the collective will-power of the passengers that keeps the wings from falling off - so there you are.) And it was not helped this evening by the beastly, choppy flight I had into Dee Cee from Houston. If you want to call me a coward, go right ahead.

In relation to this, and also with my Tiber-swimming activities, I have taken recently to appealing to the Holy Mother for strength while flying. However, as we buffeted about tonight over the stormy Southeast, I think she began to lose patience, because after about my twentieth Hail Mary, she suddenly said, "Oh, for Heaven's sake. Man up!" I did, too, and, after calmly finishing the crossword and reading the WSJ cover to cover (and enduring a bottle of Fish Eye cabernet - thank you, Continental! Not), forced myself to look out the window as we made our way along the Potomac Giant Slalom Glide Slope into National Airport, spotting and identifying the various landmarks as they went by. I did okay, too, until we hit that last sharp dog-leg to the right that you do over the 14th Street Bridge at about 300 feet. When all I saw was River, I had to look away. Ah, well. Baby steps.

Anyhoo, more on all that later. In the meantime, I only get one night in the comfort of Orgle Manor for the moment, because at the crack of dawn tomorrow we're off to the Great Wolf Lodge, there to celebrate the birthdays of the younger two Llama-ettes, who turn eight and six (respectively) over the next couple days. I'm only going a) because the LMC is scheduled to put in an appearance as well, b) because the place is self-contained and crawling with lifeguards, c) because rumor has it that there is a bar and a hot tub for the grown-ups and d) because the Missus can trump me every single time with "Fine, I'll drive them all there by myself."

More later.