Shannon

I took Mark to the train station this evening, and am now alone for the first time in several weeks (with the small exception, I guess, of my hotel room in Chicago). I do like being alone….though it seemed far too soon to see him go. But we both have lots to do, as ever, […]

So Jetlag Girl and Sir Naps-A-Lot found themselves awake at some ungodly hour pre-sunrise this morning….and actually bestirred themselves from bed, walked to the gym, swam 40 minutes, and walked home! Feeling appropriately pleased with themselves, they then proceeded to eat a healthy breakfast, move a pile of wood, carry stones hither and yon, and

So, as I mentioned yesterday, my (eventual) flight from Chicago to Portland appeared to be proceeding without flaw…until it didn’t. I had a nice morning at the Hyatt Regency (and let me AGAIN say how impressed I am with the Hyatt (and with SwissAir for sending me there), for how they managed to take an

I am home. Finally. Another flight delay….several hours on the tarmac. And a seatmate who is, I swear, a short story waiting for me to write. But, all that for another day. Bed now. Home. My own bed. Oh yes.

I did manage to take a few photos around the apartment and the town, during the TV shoot where I did Not Exist. The apartment itself was….interestingly decorated. My photos don’t do it justice. The owner has a strong affinity for color, I think it’s safe to say. And mirrors, and plastic flowers, and objects

Well, despite the fact that I would really rather be somewhere else, it’s actually pretty nice here. Soft landing, I have to say. The bed was spectacularly comfortable; I slept like a dead thing for about five hours, then laid awake for three (read a while), then got a couple more hours of sleep–and since

Nothing personal, Chicago, I know you’re a lovely city, but I was REALLY hoping to get home tonight. Not tomorrow night.* It’s actually not Chicago’s fault. It’s Zurich’s fault: Zurich had The Fog. And of course airplanes get confused by fog (I lived in San Francisco long enough to understand this….). I spent nine hours

Well, we have made it to Como, and I am writing as a ghost, because I am not here. Apparently, “the way we do things in Italy” includes not messing with the predetermined script of a television show, such that even though I have had this trip planned since February, I am unexpected, I am

Okay this is Just Not Right. I encountered him as I stepped out of the bath. Gah! Auntie proclaimed him good luck, then squished him. I’ll be checking under my pillow this evening….

Okay here is the thing that we’re going to do tomorrow. Sorry to be so mysterious about it, but there was too much else to tell you, you know? Auntie is an inveterate house-trader. I mean when she goes on vacation, she frequently trades houses rather than staying in a hotel or something. She’s stayed