Thursday, March 22 - Last day. Up earlier than normal, with interesting and different dreams. Down for an early breakfast and decided to treat myself to bacon and eggs - very nice. Checked email, nothing special, sent a few and off to try and get everything into the suitcase. I hope someone in Gaming has a scale, so I can check the bag against the BA weight. I will leave the broken shoes there, so that should give me some extra space. The only things I will have added are the presents, which are small, so I should be ok. Checked out - treated myself again to a cab to the train station, and discovered there was a train leaving at 11:10 instead of the 11:34 I was aiming for, so I checked that it stopped at St. Polten, where I make my first of several changes today, and it did, so off I went.
Note: what with security and small seats and increasing restrictive luggage and carry-on rules, trains are starting to look better and better. They take longer - although sometimes, when you have to factor in how far in advance you need to get to the airport, and the time you spend waiting for luggage, and traveling to and from the airport, it is not always a tremendous savings. It is more expensive, but as I think back, a number of the tourists with whom I have spoken have been using trains, even going to places like Parish and Amsterdam.
I was in a compartment with one other person, a young girl who was heading for Wien (Vienna for you non-German speakers.) Not long after leaving Salzburg, the beautiful forest and mountains covered with snow changed to green, green, green. The recent snowfalls have apparently not gotten this far. Comfortable seats, large windows, people who come around and ask if you want anything to eat or drink and then they bring it to you, and they don’t expect a tip. The seats recline, the head rests move up and down, the end seats have little tables that pull up and there are even two plugs for your computer. The trains are quiet, and when the schedule says that a train leaves at 11:04, you can pretty much set your watch on it - that train is leaving at 11:04, not :05 or :06. Be on it or be left behind. So when I looked at my schedule for today and saw that the time difference between arriving at one station and leaving on the next train was sometimes 4 minutes - no worries, if OBB (the Austrian train network) says I can do this, I can do it. (Although getting the earlier train out of Salzburg makes that particular connection a little easier.)
As I was packing this morning, I was reflecting on the time in Salzburg, and what had been the most annoying thing? CNN. How they can call themselves a news organization with a straight face is beyond me. This place has them as the only English language station (in Innsbruck there was also BBC). I almost wish I were teaching again, so I could use them as an example of slanted words and assumed prejudices. They are doing a week on India - a week! - and it is essentially a commercial, telling us how wonderful this place is and how important to the future of the world, and we achieve this by interviewing a group of 18-25 year olds. Sigh. Don’t get me started. Alright, I am started - let me finish before I really wind myself up. Some of their caption reporting even contradicts facts in their own reporting - but it is much more dramatic to say “The President of Zimbabwe threatens to expel foreign diplomats - the American Ambassador has already left” than to honestly note that while he had in fact left, it was for a previously scheduled meeting in South Africa, and that he would shortly be returning (unless the CNN reporting so angers Zimbabwe that they don’t let him back in). They refuse to let CNN report from inside the country because they classify them as “enemy agents,” and while I am firmly in the camp that thinks that Mugabe and his cronies are crazy, I don’t know that in this case they are entirely wrong.
Sidebar - I tried sending an email to CNN via their own web site. Twice I wrote out the message and in the little box where one mark positive or negative comment, I marked negative. Both times the mail was returned - and this from their own web site. The third time I did not mark the little box, and it got delivered just fine. I am not a conspiracy theorist, but I also am suspicious of too many coincidences.
Contrasting CNN to local television - there is a program that comes out of Munich, that is essentially a call-in game show. They have items covered up and you call in to guess what the item is. If you are correct, you win money. The longer the items remain unguessed, the higher the amount goes. At one point, a correct answer could have brought you E15,000 (That’s something in the neighborhood of $20,000.) Surprisingly enough, there seem to be very few calls. I couldn’t figure out how to do the calling between countries from my hotel room or I might have given it a shot. They have attractive young women who have to have a talent for filling space, talking during the time there is no action, encouraging the viewers to call.
Now the strategists among you have figured out that it is to your benefit, even if you think you know an answer (and a board can have six or seven items to be guessed) to wait and let the money amount get larger. Of course, if you wait, someone else may sneak in ahead of you and you will have lost out. But even with that there seems to be not a lot of action. I had seen the program a couple of times, and the I saw it in the evening, and discovered the extra added attraction - apparently at some point in the evening (definitely after the “children’s hour”) the attractive young hostess starts taking off her clothes. True. She gets down to bikini, and then - TARA - topless. Even THIS does not encourage phone calls, at one point last night she was offering E500 for the next phone call, even a wrong answer. (Somehow, even if I could have figured out the phone, it did not seem the venue for them to announce that “Father John” had just won E500. Someone did, of course. Not a Father.
The train ride was gentle, but the time in between trains at each station was minimal (except for the first one, where I had taken the earlier train). At the second stop, I walked off one train, and onto the other, literally as the whistle was blowing. I did get some writing done, some work on a crossword puzzle and a really good lecture on Tchaikovsky and Dvorak. I got off that train, and as I arrived at the bus stop, the bus came. I had specifically asked in Salzburg about the ticket being good to Gaming Markplatz and they had assured me it would be and of course it wasn’t. But the driver was so disgusted at the people in Salzburg he refused to charge me. The land continues to gentle, and it is really quite pretty, with snow on the mountains and later on even in the streets, but the dogwood and the forsythia are in full bloom. As long as you’re not a dogwood, it’s lovely to look at.
When I got to MarktPlatz Gaming, the Mortensens were there in force to welcome me, and we walked up a couple of blocks and to the car. John took my big bag and the little one took my finger and off we went. Dropped my bags off at the pension, and I registered, and then went back to their flat for coffee and fresh muffins and playing with the girls. I definitely energized them. I had brought a crystal cross for Marietta and a bunny with an Austria shirt for Maggie and they were both a great hit. We played and bounced and ate and read stories and we were snuggling down for a sleep when John and Ginger (John’s sister) came in. Dinner together and then they were going to choir rehearsal. I would like to have gone, but I wondered if my presence was going to excite the young ladies, and Beth rather thought it would, so I went back to the pension, unpacked and settled in for a quiet, and early, evening.
We are going to Vienna tomorrow, and John is going to pick me up at 7. I wrote a note saying I would not need breakfast - I don’t want to be faced with a bathroom break on the road. They seem only to have one channel on the tv - or I don’t know how to manipulate it. No remote so it is all push button. Bathroom down the corridor and bath across the hall - but I seem to be the only person here, so it isn’t a great hardship. No soap - that could prove a little trickier. John said he thinks he can figure out my computer problem - they have wireless in the house - and they have a piano, and of course, I brought none of my music except the scales. Everything conspires to make me think this is really a vacation.
A word about people - some of the more astute may be quietly asking yourselves, “Who ARE these people and where did they come from?” Ask and you shall receive, as it says on a tea towel somewhere. And here we go, back through the mists of time to the last 1960’s, where I am doing my college thing, and a young actor catches my eye, one of the best I have seen in a looong time. And he is going out with this young lady, and I forego one of my cardinal rules about not getting involved in other people’s relationships and I try to convince him that he should NOT marry this girl.
He did - and many children later, she has forgiven me and we have become fast friends. One of their daughters married a guy named John Mortensen, and he is a theologian, and when I was in Rome doing one of my Tertianship visits, they came and visited me, we celebrated Mass in Father General’s chapel and had lunch. Last January I went to Tulsa for the wedding of another of their daughters, and I met John’s sister Ginger. John is teaching at and finishing his PhD at the International Theological Institute in Gaming, Austria, and Ginger works in the Administration there. John and Beth have two little girls, Marietta who is about 5 and Magdalena who is around three. And another is on the way. John is finishing up in June and taking a job somewhere in the west of the U.S. - after many years of being out of the country they’re coming back, and all the families are delighted. When they heard in January that I was going to be in Austria, I was threatened with death and dismemberment if I did not come and visit, and while I can easily be bought, I am even more subject to intimidation, so I put Gaming on the schedule. As it turned out, the weekend I was coming was a weekend filled with events (see below) and so it was a GREAT weekend. Everybody up to speed? Bravo - read on.
Friday, March 23 - A few words about Pension Fruhstuck Doris Eder. The room is clean and the largest I have had, faces the street and the brook across the street and the mountains behind the brook. (There is a picture or two.) The curtain rod is old and nicked and so you have to use a clothes hanger to move the curtain either open or closed. The bathroom (ie the room with the bath) is across the hall and the WC (the little chair with the flushing thing - and yes, here they have again the shelf design) is down the hall and around the corner. (Note the picture of the sign in the WC.)
There is a sink in the room - but no soap. First hotel I’ve ever been in with no soap. There is soap in the bathroom - I may steal it. There is a TV is the room, and I discovered it gets two channels. Actually it gets five channels, but only showing two programs. There is a large bed and a small commercial marshmallow and a large albeit somewhat flat pillow. Along one wall is a cupboard arrangement for hanging and storing clothes - lots of room (I think more than in my room in New York) and little bed lights on the little night tables on both sides of the bed. There is a small table in the corner with two chairs - and you’ve seen my room.
Oh - there is a radiator under the window. As far as I can tell, it is a decorative piece, because it was certainly not on last night, does not go on, and the temperature in the room was a brisk 61 degrees Fahrenheit. Those of you who know me know that one of the things I don’t like is cold - and especially not in a bedroom. On a ski slope, on an ice skating rink, inside of a fridge where the beer is stored - cold is ok. Outside, there are times when cold is unavoidable. In a bedroom? No. (OK - I exaggerate. The radiator does go on during the daytime and off at night, which, I gather, is pretty much the custom around here. Doesn’t mean I have to like it. A cold nose is a healthy sign for a springer spaniel. A cold nose is a healthy sign for a springer spaniel. When this child of God wakes up with a cold nose, you probably had better take a walk somewhere where I am not until my nose and that to which it is attached warms up.)
So as I arise this brisk Friday morning (any time I use brisk twice in two paragraphs, we are not happy) to prepare for our dash into Vienna, I am right on the brink of being grumpy. I had left a note for the folks here saying no breakfast since I would be leaving early - just as well, I need to find a cheerful disposition with which to have a conversation with the landlady about the living arrangements. The Mortensens had tried to find me another room before I came, something a little closer to where they live (although the walk is not bad) but the pensions that they usually use were filled. And this one has lots of empty rooms. Should have been a warning. (Someone in the third row just said, “Wow, he’s cranky.” Yup, you got it.)
The view from the hotel bedroom window looking left - which could be north. Or maybe not. Definitely left, going away from downtown Gaming.
The view from the bedroom window looking right. Which could be South. Or maybe not. But definitely heading toward Gaming.
The family Mortensen came by and picked me up and we were off to Wien (non-German speakers, refer above.) The children came too, and part of the trip was Fr. John telling stories. (I don’t always refer to myself with the clerical title but since the Paterfamiliar, the head of the house, is also named John - minimizes confusion.) I would start a story and then Marietta would add something when I pointed to her, so I never quite knew where we might be going with a story line. We parked at the Staatsoper (Vienna Opera House) and they went on to the US Embassy to get some paperwork notarized and I went wandering. I know several people in Vienna, but I had not realized that Gaming was so close - I would have tried to fly out of Vienna (about 90 minutes away by train) instead of slaburg (between 4 and 6 hours away, depending on connections. Ah well.) I didn’t have any address mit, so I figured I would just say goodbye to Vienna in my own wandering way. I went to the museum of the opera house, paid a visit to St Stephen’s Cathedral, and St Michael’s Church, saw the Lippizaner Museum (the famous trained horses) and then (with a stop at a little shop that had a great deal on some CD’s) to Music Haus, a five floor exploration of sound and the history of western music. Lots of interactive stuff and would have been great fun for someone like me - but just ahead of me were three floors of young teenage kids - lots of noise and energy and banging and whomping, some doing the musical experiments with MP3 players in their ears. It was not pleasant and so I went through fairly quickly. Even the gift shop was wall to wall kids, so I didn’t spend much time. It looked like it would have been fun. (By the way, for those who keep track of such things, weather in Vienna was overcast and cold but no precipitation. After years in a place where pretty much the only weather variation is dry or wet, this still has an interest for me.) I also found two Irish pubs, the Pickwick Club (for English speaking types) and a fascinating Russian shop run by two guys who are definitely never going back. I think one can’t go back, but I didn’t push that too much. But I did get in my walking, and did get to see Vienna again, even if only on a very superficial level.
Thanks to the wonder of the modern mobile phone, the Mortensens called when they had finished, and we met at a little restaurant for lunch. I normally don’t do lunch but I had not had breakfast before we left and so I had a caviar sandwich and some penne in a cream sauce with salmon (Friday in Lent, you know) and then we headed back - with a stop at a McDonald’s for a treat. I was still full from lunch so I passed - and made a mistake. Austria does dairy really well, so even at Mcd’s, a yogurt with fruit is something special. Even better than a McSunday. Ah well, next time I walk pass an Austrian McDonald’s, I will know better.
The family Mortensen and their trusty red car
John had to go to work, so we went back to the house and I read a story to the girls, and we played, then Marietta had to go to her catechism class. I tried a major system reset to see if that would clear the problem on the wireless - nope. Played with Magdalena until it was time for church. By this time (you weather-oriented readers) it was raining heavy and cold rain, almost sleet. We visited the newly refurbished Byzantine chapel, where many of the icons had been done by students (and others are for salein the gift shop). Mass in the large chapel - in English, no homily, celebrant and to co-celebrants (who were dressed in orange robes - interesting) with pronounced eastern European accents. John told me that Fr. Fessio had been asked to leave Ave Maria, and then a day later, he was back as a teaching professor, but with no classes. Definitely something political happening there. (Fessio is a very well-known conservative Jesuit.)
Home for a hot bath for the girls, and email for John. When Ginger came home we shared some vodka - to help keep away the chill, of course. Home for some writing and dozing and finally to bed.
Saturday, March 24 - Ralph will be buried today. Part of the dream was a serious death threat to me, enough so that I moved out of where I was living and went into hiding. Room went down to 62. But the good news is there was lots of hot water for a shower. And the better news is that when one does have fruhstuck at Pension Doris Eder, it is lovely. Very nice breakfast room, set apart, all set and ready, with semmeln and kase und fleisch, hot fresh coffee and the cooked egg was the best of the trip. I am, after breakfast, in a MUCH better mood. It is snowing out - the skies are grey - it is lovely but probably not what the planners of the day had in mind. Poor Ginger, whose whole weekend of visitors and special ceremonies will be influenced by weather. They all say this is the worst weather they’ve had all winter. Up to now, virtually no snow.
John and Ginger came by around 9 to pick me - nice way to start the day. She always brings a fresh burst of energy and just joy when she enters a space. I went into the chapel and started working on the morning breviary. Ginger went to her office, and John went to run errands, later to go back and collect Beth and the kids. A nun came up and introduced herself - turned out to be the head of the Basilian Sisters. She is based in Pennsylvania but of course they have nuns all around the world, and she was visiting some here in Gaming. A woman came and joined her, turned out to be the daughter of the President of Ave Maria University, who is here running a catechetical program. I might end up in Florida yet. The choir rehearsed so there was music right up to the time the ceremony started. The father of the baby (himself a priest) stopped by to ask if I wanted to concelebrate, and I declined. Might have been a mistake. Great outfits.
Byzantine liturgy - most done in old Slovak. Baptism and Divine Liturgy (ie, Mass) 2 hours and thirty minutes and that’s without taking up a collection. Lots of singing - I think those who actively participated made the sign of the cross a couple of hundred times and I am NOT exaggerating. Lots of concelebrants, both Roman and Byzantine (did I mention the GREAT outfits?) And the music was lovely. Lots of processing and parading around - the censer has bells on it, so every time they use the incense (and they use it a lot) it not only smokes but sounds. I won’t attempt to describe the whole liturgy but at one point the Bishop took the baby and held him up (a little like Kunte Kinte in Roots) and processed with him held aloft down the enter aisle to present him to the congregation. He had perhaps been placed on a restricted liquid diet before the great event - there was no moment suitable for filming and sending to YouTube, all the participants remained dry. He was then taken back up and placed on the altar, where he was retrieved by his parents.
When we were going up to communion, John and Beth were up in the choir loft, singing, and the girls were on the right side of the church with Ginger. When Magdalena caught sight of me, she left Ginger and came and joined me in line, put her hand in mine. I received communion, she got a blessing with the chalice, and then came back and stayed with me a while. Then she went back and joined her sister and Ginger. Very matter of fact. Remember, this is a not quite three year old, who talks quite coherently thank you and has definite opinions about practically everything.
After the celebration in Church, there was an agape - a reception - with cakes and sandwiches and wine and the grandfather of the baby wandered around pouring a Polish schnapps that helped take the chill of the day, and anything else it came in contact with. Met a bunch of people at the Karthaus, including a friend of the President’s daughter, and a Franciscan who is about to return to Steubenville after five years here. He looks rather like an overgrown elf, white here, infectious smile and a real enthusiasm about meeting people. People aren’t quite sure about me - with the bear I look very Byzantine, and there are a lot of Bishops and Cardinals about this weekend for the dedication of the new Byzantine chapel, and I am wearing my silver cross and with the Notre Dame ring - they don’t quite know who I am or how to respond. And I don’t help them out at all, until we get into conversation. (I’m a BAAAAD boy!)
After the agape, we went back to the house so everyone could take a nap. And I mean everyone (well, except me). I stayed up and did email and wrote notes to people and cleaned out the in box a little. John was unable to fix my transmission problem, at least without going more deeply into the works of my machine than he wanted to do, and so I am still unable to take advantage of the wireless, and I can only hope someone will be able to get me up in London.
At one point Ginger came in, and I drove her to the bakery to get bread and then drove her to school and helped her unload, and then drove back. Fun to drive in Austria. People were awake when I got in, so we looked at pictures for a little, and then it was time to go back to the Karthaus. I went to the Byzantine Great Vespers (which, I learned, was also going to include a sub-diaconate ordination.) Beth and the girls went to the Ostermaarkt at the Karthaus and John went to his office. We met again at six for supper.
The Byzantine chapel is quite small and it was packed like a New York subway car at 5 pm. Archbishops and bishops and priests and dignitaries and lay folk to beat the band. I got there early enough that I got a seat next to Mother General, who watched over me. I had to leave early, and they got me out with minimal fuss as well. The Vespers is a little bit of a free for all - you sing pretty much whatever you want, and while western vespers is more strictly one side then the other, here you could sing one part, or the other part, or all the parts. You could sing melody but a lot of harmonizing was going on ad lib - and it was lovely. Some stood all the time, some stood and say according to a rubric I never figured out. But it was all lovely and in its own disorganized way, very spiritual. I hated to leave - I had thought an hour, but Sister had told me it would go a good 90 minutes - and the Mortensens were waiting, because I had invited them all to dinner at me at their favorite restaurant, in honor of John’s birthday.
The Byzantine Chapel, packed with people. See what I mean about the great outfits?
Here's another shot of the same event - the guy in the white plain hat is Cardinal Schonbrun. I definitely want one of those gold hats.
The restaurant is right there at the Karthaus, and is very gemutlich. And Austrian. The waitress was a little bit of a cold fish, but she went through the motions very nicely. As we got settled, she brought coloring place mats and crayons for the girls, and the menu was varied and interesting. I had a smoked trout as an appetizer, and a glass of red wine, and a ragout of deer meat and other stuff. Beth had a huge Greek salad and Magdalena had chicken nuggets and fries, and then two large pizza were for everyone else. We ended up taking home almost a whole pizza. I had a small piece of crepe with marmalade and coffee, while John and Beth split a chocolate brownie with ice cream and whipped cream and spun sugar decorations and sugar cookies - the girls helped them with that. And they dropped me off to recover from all this food. And the girls had been given a colored egg and a bag of meringue cookies at the Osterfest because they were so cute. Lorraine Hainsberry may praise young, gifted and black, but sometimes it is fun just to be young and cute.
While I’m writing, the tv is showing a soccer match between Ghana and Austria. Now given my varied backgrounds, who am I supposed to root for? On the one hand, I really and truly don’t care one way or the other. On the other, it is always more interesting when you are rooting for one side or the other. If it were Nigeria, I would certainly root for Austria. But Ghana?
Sunday, March 25 - Feast of the Annunciation, which the orthodox will celebrate today. The Roman Church, on the other hand, moves it back a day, keeping the Sunday precedence. And of course, in spite of all the warnings and conversations that THIS is the weekend when we go onto Daylight Savings Time, I forgot to change my clock ahead. I woke at 5:45 - which is really 6:45 - and remembered, so I still had time for a lovely hot shower and a chance to wake up before breakfast. Another dark and cloudy day, although no snow or rain. Yet. Tyrol music in the background in my room as I write and dress.
Idle thought from yesterday - in my life I have celebrated Mass in English, French, German, Italian, Marshallese, Latin, Russian, Igbo, Yoruba and Hausa. I have been a concelebrant at liturgies in the Greek Orthodox, Russian and Slavic Byzantine Churches, the Maronite Church, and in Masses in Malagasi, Swahili, Yappese, Trukkese, and Pohnpeian. Not bad for a small boy.
Off to church - Ginger and John picked me up, I went in again and prayed the office. This morning, if someone asked, I was ready to concelebrate - and of course, no one asked. I could have simply gone up, but I was a little shy. One of the Byzantine priests came by and we chatted for a bit but he never asked and so I was a member of the congregation for the day’s celebrations. Long chat with a local woman who was very disappointed that everything in the booklets for the day was in English, since she “had” no English. But she thought I spoke very well, and at one point asked if my ancestors were German. (I know - sin of pride. But more than one person has complimented me on my German. I think it is the accent more than the content, but I do seem to be able to get by in most situations. And German speakers feel very comfortable speaking away, once we have made contact.)
The dedication of the new small chapel and Divine Liturgy - began at 10 AM, ended at 1:45. We started in the big church - processed to the small chapel (I ducked out and went into the sacristy and had a much better view) and then back to the big church. Seven bishops and two cardinals - several of the bishops are “underground,” in situations where they cannot be as public, and they found this great coming together of western and eastern, lots of lay support - it was all very encouraging for them. Cardinal Schonbrunn was the western cardinal and the eastern cardinal - long grey beard, short man, and almost entirely blind, had to be led pretty much everywhere - was a delight. Did a homily in English, with someone else translating into German, based on an African fable. The service itself was in five languages - English, German, and three Slavic. (We don’t count the Greek Kyrie Eleison.)
Short reception afterwards and then everyone trooped or rode up the hill for lunch at a catering school for girls. The Monsignor who is one of the school officials talked too long, but otherwise it was very nice - good food, the girls at the school cooked and served - this was a test for them, and my scorecard would have given them high marks. I had never had serviettenknodel - I joked a knodel made from old napkins? Then I tasted it, and unfortunately, the joke was closer to the dish than I would have liked. But everything else was lovely.
At the luncheon, just before it started. The priest is a former student, the young woman was one of his teachers. We had lunch together and I discovered that she has the same birthday that I do. Not the same year, of course, but the same day and month. Another 13 person.
Home a little before five for some sitting and talking - John took another shot at my computer without success. Got an email from Brian Porter - he finally has a replacement. The guy is in training, so it will probably be another 18 months, but there is light at the end of the tunnel. We prayed the rosary at one point - Marietta led one decade in Latin - not bad for a 5-year old. John was going to take me home, and we stopped and got Ginger on the way - and she insisted I stay for a while, so we went back, had some drinks, John and Beth went to bed and the two of us stayed up and talked until about 11. Interesting girl - Ah if I were twenty years younger and not a Jesuit. Well, maybe in the next lifetime.
Just before we left for the train, we all stood together and the baby sitter took our picture. I'm the one with the beard. Ginger is the one I have my arm around. Everyone else should be easy to identify.
Monday, March 26 - Twice in one trip! Yup, for the second time on this trip, I got caught in a bathroom with no toilet paper. Not precisely the best way to start a day. After a lovely shower and shampoo, I ran diagnostics on the computer and even the wireless section and 1394 came through passing. So I STILL have no idea what is wrong here, except that I still think it has to be something hardware. Breakfast - blueberry or boysenberry instead of raspberry - ah well. Packed - I think I’m ok on weight - they are so tough these days about weight, it’s 23 kilos, and if you’re the least bit over they charge you a HUGE amount. Paid my bill - the four days here are a little bit more than one day in Salzburg. Went over to the house and visited for a little, and then John and the two girls and Ginger all took me to the train.
The first train was deserted, the second more crowded but got a nice seat and was in Salzburg in no time. Took a bus out to the airport, checked my luggage in a bag room and went back into town. Did a little email and just walked around - the weather was the nicest I had seen in Salzburg, and I was almost tempted to try for the salt mines again - but that would have been tempting fate. Back to the airport with reluctance - checked in and I was exactly 22.9 kilos. Boy I’m glad I threw away my broken shoes. I bought some duty free items to use up the last of my Euro and listened to a couple of lectures on one of my courses while waiting for the check in to start and then another for the flight to actually board. No exit row but a good seat, gentle trip, easy trip home by train and in the house before ten. No one else in residence, so I unpacked - did email (the computer worked fine, no problem) and watched a little tv and bed.
And here again seems a good place to let the popcorn popper do its thing, stretch the old legs (or the young legs, depending) and visit the porcelain chapel for a few moments of tension releasing meditation.
When we come back together, assuming the butter knife doesn’t run away with the jelly spoon, we’ll have
THE LAST DAYS IN ENGLAND
(Sounds a little ominous, doesn’t it? Well, it’s supposed to.)
And a special prize for anyone who knows what the closing reference is to (assuming the butter knife etc)
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