They’re not from the same place.
If I weren’t so jetlagged, I’d get the camera, download the last set, and give you one more. But I’m too tired . . . .
Usually, I have more trouble with jet lag when travelling east to west than west to east. This trip was the other way round: easy adapting to England, and a struggle coming home. Let’s just say it’s a good thing I like mornings, but that I’m about ready for bed now (not yet 5:00 p.m. in my time zone).
I did have a good idea this morning, about shaping the essay I’m developing from my two most recent conference papers. Then much of the rest of the day went to laundry, groceries, errands, bill-paying, cat care, all those oh-right-there’s-a-life-here things that have to get done. I had hopes of getting to a library this afternoon to start looking into it, but now I’m thinking tomorrow for that.
One of the things I love about going to the U.K. is never having to drive. Coming home, I’m back into the driving culture with a vengeance. Ugh. I’m having fantasies of moving to some seaside university town, say Swansea, where I could live car-free and get sand in my toes every day. I’m sure there are reasons people might fantasize about living where I live. After I take a little nap, maybe I’ll think of some.