Ah, England...
Our trip so far has been wonderfully productive and aside from a few bumps (like not having our luggage for the first two days of our stay) it's been smooth and enjoyable. It's been just fantastic to see old friends and put names to faces with newer members of the Black Industries team.
Every time I come over I'm in love with little things, like the tea and digestive biscuits reliably left in our hotel room or the oddball "fashion" channel (one of 10 channels in the hotel room, on which at any time of the day or night you can watch famine-victim fashion models strolling runways), or how Bill Hicks is a household name.
I've had few sleep disturbances this time and have pretty much adapted to the time change without any trouble. I've also had amazingly bizarre and vivid dreams. One night I dreamed that I was in a land under strict Islamic rule and was walking the street in a veil and associated garb on the way to collect my mail, when who should I bump into but John Kovalic. Much of the dream was spent trying to figure out how I (a woman alone on the street without my husband) could greet and talk to John without bringing retribution upon us both, how to invite him back to the house so Chris could also see him, how to get him back to his hotel since he didn't know the way, I knew the way but wasn't allowed to drive him and Chris was allowed to be out with John but couldn't drive. Ah, much police-state hilarity ensued, let me tell you. Another night it was a dream that involved my friend Evan's one-year-old daughter, a pool party, and jumping in fully clothed to the deep end of the pool to retrieve dropped baby toys.
Today we wrap up our meetings and tomorrow head back to London. The delightful James Wallis is putting us up at his flat for a few days and we have tentative plans to perhaps meet up with Angus and Sasha for a last hurrah on Monday night.
Every time I come over I'm in love with little things, like the tea and digestive biscuits reliably left in our hotel room or the oddball "fashion" channel (one of 10 channels in the hotel room, on which at any time of the day or night you can watch famine-victim fashion models strolling runways), or how Bill Hicks is a household name.
I've had few sleep disturbances this time and have pretty much adapted to the time change without any trouble. I've also had amazingly bizarre and vivid dreams. One night I dreamed that I was in a land under strict Islamic rule and was walking the street in a veil and associated garb on the way to collect my mail, when who should I bump into but John Kovalic. Much of the dream was spent trying to figure out how I (a woman alone on the street without my husband) could greet and talk to John without bringing retribution upon us both, how to invite him back to the house so Chris could also see him, how to get him back to his hotel since he didn't know the way, I knew the way but wasn't allowed to drive him and Chris was allowed to be out with John but couldn't drive. Ah, much police-state hilarity ensued, let me tell you. Another night it was a dream that involved my friend Evan's one-year-old daughter, a pool party, and jumping in fully clothed to the deep end of the pool to retrieve dropped baby toys.
Today we wrap up our meetings and tomorrow head back to London. The delightful James Wallis is putting us up at his flat for a few days and we have tentative plans to perhaps meet up with Angus and Sasha for a last hurrah on Monday night.
Little Z loves swimming, parties, and people picking up stuff she throws, so I bet she had a blast. :)
Glad the trip is going well.