After an absence of two weeks, I was greeted at the door by an importunate cat and a voice from the bedroom saying, "Hi! Welcome home." Since it was 2 a.m., there wasn't much time for extended greetings. I dragged my suitcase (and my body) in the door, said a few words, and collapsed unconscious on top of the bed.

The last part of the journey--from New Orleans to LAX--was, mercifully, uneventful. I had to go first class because there were no seats left in the sardine section. I've never travelled first class before, and I must say it was a whole lot more comfortable. The chatty cathy next to me (who wanted to tell me her life history) eventually became absorbed in her movie and I was able to catch a cat nap (though she did try to give me a running narrative of the so-called plot).

After the plane landed at LAX (shortly after midnight) I grabbed my suitcase and went outside to wait for the Flyaway bus. A cute young guy wanted to know about the bus fare and so forth, and I said we were both in the same boat. We'd wait for it to arrive and see what the fare was and how to get a ticket. Dan Gent had sent me a text message with the scheduled times so I knew when it was going to arrive, which was a great help. Young guy and I waited and rode the same bus.

I was greeted at the Flyaway by a wonderful friend who was willing to meet me at the ungodly wee hour of the morning and take me to my car which was parked for the two weeks nearby. Many thanks to him.

Many flashes of memory of the two week trip. Will share more later. Right now I'm trying to catch up on my sleep and adjust the body clock.