Home from the bright lights (and were they bright!) to a blizzard, a temperature of 3ºC and a sticking z (just found that out). And I'm almost too distraught to blog, having abandoned on the floor of the plane from London this morning a bag containing my reading specs (the ones I look at the laptop through), my book (half-read) and, worst of all, my diary. Not the one with the appointments in it, but the one with my life in it. I can't bear it.
And though there was a man at Gatwick able to tell me it hadn't turned up there when the plane returned, the phone at Glasgow rang and rang. Unlike Vegas, Glasgow shuts down on Sunday. All very right and holy, I'm sure, but deeply frustrating.
Normal service will be resumed when I get my specs back. Meantime, the photos are beginning to go up on flickr and I have the Diocesan Synod to prepare for. Joy.