Yes, it's true, you lucky little bloggers. The Mighty and Redoubtable Cloud is back: the windy AC blowing hot, not cold, air your way. I guess that makes him a rather faulty old AC. Eh?
This is actually our second day home, and, truth be told, I'm not altogether certain that I am up to writing even a scrap of coherent thought, as the first paragraph makes readily apparent. But when has that ever stopped me, I ask you?
You see, in addition to the normal travel-weariness that has settled deep within the core of my being, I am still suffering from a small bout of what I shall affectionately term Montezuma's Revenge. No, we didn't go to Mexico, and, therefore, I didn't drink the water, but I did do something that in retrospect turns out to be rather reckless. Mind you, I had considered the possible ramifications aforehand but had rejected the conclusion because, through the years, my stomach has been known to gladly assimilate just about whatever I durst shove into it.
Notwithstanding, on the eve prior to a long plane trip home, and I do mean long in terms of tedium at least, I really should have exercised a modicum of discretion. Really.
But, no, discretion proves not to be my forte, and I chose to eat Mexican food. After all, when in Arizona ... eat Mexican?
Apparently so because that is what bloggers Methatiam and Chelsea enthusiastically and charitably invited us to do whilst in Phine Phoenix. And, of course, heedless of the possible consequences, we happily and equally enthusiastically consented. In the event, we enjoyed a rather grand evening at the something or other del Cantino. We broke bread together, or fajitas rather, and chatted amiably for several hours. Most pleasant indeed.
Until the next morning, that is. Bright bloggers such as you require not the blow by blow (ahem) details. You can fill in the blanks. And I had to be in a plane for almost five hours! And I wasn't in an aisle seat! And the seats were prodigiously uncomfortable to begin with. It's true. Of the four planes that we were privileged to fly on this trip, this was the most uncomfortable, which is really saying rather a lot unless one happens to have accumulated enough filthy lucre to fly Executive Class (s'cuse me guv). If the gods had to inflict such a miserable conveyance upon us why could it not have been on one of the short one-hour hops between Toronto and Ottawa? I know not.
Whatever! Almost seventy-two hours after that meal, I am still not completely recovered. I thought I was. I really did, but then I had lunch today ...
Oh, I confess that I hyperbolize just a tad for the benefit of the narrative. It hasn't been quite as bad as I let on. And it was well worth it. We did have a great trip. Touring Arizona and seeing the sites was magnificently marvellous. What incredible geography — even beyond the Grand Canyon. Of course you know that I will tell you more in days to come. (No, you don't need to yawn already!) And in addition to meeting Methatiam and Chelsea in Phine Phoenix, we were also able to get together with Paul and Julie (of Wondering!) in Fine Flagstaff. Bloggers are nice people, but I think you already knew that. (We spent such little time in Phoenix that we unable to meet with Oshee. Next time for sure.)
But John Payne was right you know?
Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble there's no place like home!
We're back in verdant Ontario with its plentiful freshwater (it's raining right now) and our cozy little domicile and our wonderful kids who picked us up at the airport at midnight and that charming feline who is helping me compose this by spilling his furry little carcass somewhat beyond the smidgen of his allotted space beside the computer.
The first pic is of Methatiam and Chelsea and the second of Paul and Julie.