I have been trying to make this day happen… all day. Hard to say what happened, or didn’t. But consider the slightly antique expression ‘cool your jets.’ Consider that your jets are lagging. One jet lagging another jet, and five days after returning to North American terra firma. Why? How? Who cares? And of course, it’s not just jet lag. It’s cold lag. I don’t get colds. Well, maybe once a year. And not surprisingly at the end of a long trip…one would get a cold. One’s jets would cool. The other jets would lag. You get the idea…there isn’t one.

Thing is, my days start with a the physical therapeutic bang. Dennis blows in around 7 AM. Make that 6:45 AM. And we get to work. I walk back and forth on the deck. I do the weights. I do the rowing machine. Then Dennis does me, vis-à-vis stretching my hips. Legs. Shoulders and arms. By the time it’s all over, so am I. And since I was over before Dennis even got here…what followed doesn’t amount to much. Even though it amounted to eight hours. Something in me is too tired. Even to write. Which means, simply put, it’s time to do something else.