I should be writing, I know that. I have a novel that is now “overdue.” And I am working on it afternoons in the hotel.
But this is just too much to resist and remain locked away all day. We are here only until Sunday. Thursday and Friday, I was out and about at this “secret” destination – which you knew already if you follow my Instagram. And obviously this post’s title gives it away: Lisbon, Portugal:
I drove my wife to London’s Luton Airport RIDICULOUSLY early. Hence, this even earlier than usual blog post. She is going to Lisbon for two days for work.
Yes, sometimes life requires us to tackle challenges such as….going to and through Luton Airport. (Ahhhhhhhh!) It’s being updated, so is, basically, construction chaos right now. Hopefully modernization improves matters, as it made even New York City’s LaGuardia look pleasant and customer-friendly by comparison.
So for about the next 36 hours she won’t be here, for example, teasing me about another “Valérie.” Oh, and having read that post, the Mrs. would like a clarification made for all of you: it was more than one conference call. It was several. They all weren’t talking to each other at the same time.
Portugal. My mother-in-law said yesterday that my wife had to try fish when she was there. When I heard that, I almost fell over laughing. I remembered a Portuguese friend years ago saying this: