Crossing the Pond
It’s 3:30 in the morning as I write this, but I couldn’t sleep. There’s a blackbird singing in the dead of night outside my window. And not some two-bit Icterid, Corvid, or Starling that people back in the States call blackbirds. No sir. This blackbird is the real McCoy, as made famous by The Beatles.
That’s right, we’re in England! London to be specific. We’ll be here for two weeks, followed by a week in Paris and a week in Germany.
So far so good, though we were in trouble within five minutes of landing. The good folks at customs got a little peeved at us for taking this picture.
Jet lag has been a little hard. We made ourselves stay awake the entire day and that night we slept hard. But now I can’t sleep and I’m finding myself up all night. Amy’s sleeping like a log. Tomorrow’s going to hurt.
As far as pictures go, I’d like to post some while we’re over here, but I may not have a lot of time to get that done. I’ll just have to play it by ear.
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