48 Hours

Got back Thursday night, right before midnight.

My previous self left me an unopened bottle of wine in the fridge. Stood out on the front porch, glass in hand, and took in some fresh air. Thanks Self.

Flew with a head cold, and silently apologised to each fellow traveller every time I sneezed.

Went though 4 airports in 24 hours. Not a crazy in any of them.

Delta served guinea fowl for lunch. Flight attendant topped my glass of rose three times. I’ve no complaints.

Spent two hours looking over the snowy eastern part of Canada that is Labrador. Lovely, wild, wide and mysterious. It’s something to fly over a place that you know you’ll never set foot on.

When I finally put my head down on my neglected pillows, I slept a solid 8.

Went to work early Friday morning. By way of meeting, emails and impromptu phone calls, you would have thought I had been gone for 3 weeks, not 24 hours.

The heat’s not working. Lucky for me it’s not that cold. Ticket into property management website. I could have called it an emergency, but I do dislike having to deal with them, so Monday will do to fix this glitch.

Took it easy this weekend morning. Bought a Dire Straits album, and a new single from Elle King who is trying, and well, her hand at country music. Clear, soft, and vast listening. Desert singing is what I call it.

Think I’m gonna clean this person up, hop into my Jeep with my new tunes … and take a look around at 2023 from this side of the pond.

Happy Saturday.

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