It's profoundly weird to hear international news about Minneapolis on BBC radio when you're driving through the rain-soaked English Lake District in a tiny rented Ford Fiesta. Once we got back to our home base, we watched the horrible footage just like all of the rest of you, except on English television. We haven't rubbernecked our way over to the site yet, but we've only been back a few hours. Suffice it to say that I've been over that bridge (and probably many other structurally deficient bridges) thousands of times.
Thanks, friends, for checking in even though you knew I was out of the country.
I have lots to report, of course, but probably the most important and self-evident is that I didn't look at the internets for 10 days. I will therefore be playing catch-up--on the blog as in life.
This world is so crazy, isn't it? That we could be tootling along in the Fiesta a few days ago, taking off from London this morning, and then gunning it to a big American grocery store in a big American Mustang this evening seems nothing short of miraculous.
My yawning threatens to break my face.