Antenna (antennapedia) wrote,

in a dark noisy cellar, on benches

Indeed, I now know where the Watchers go to drink. Drank port, got a little squiffy, mellowed out. Listened to the educated voices at the next table talk about routes through the west Indies and shipping. I swear I've been in a place just like that before, somewhere in Cambridge. Cambridge, Mass, that is, a city old enough to have interesting institutions like Gordon's.

Saw an orange moggy on the tube platform, peering anxiously out from his little carrier, and was overwhelmed by missing my two hooligans. Who are, the boarding place tells me by email, exceedingly shy and not hooliganic at all. The dogs are staying with one of Mr P's coworkers, and email says they are also just fine, exceedingly cute, and not peeing on more than usual.

It is, therefore, the phase of the vacation when one's heart starts pointing homeward instead of outward and upward. Two more days to get in my last licks, and say once again that I wouldn't mind living here for a year or two.
Tags: vacation

  • In which I make a bonus post of bonus things.

    Since you have all kindly chimed in on the topic of fic vs story and comment vs feedback, here are some fun things in return. Bonus gaming: I just…

  • Spates of jargon

    I have no joke here. I just like saying "spate". Spate spate spate. Home sick again today. It’s the flu, or something like it, because I was…

  • In which today is yesterday.

    Wrote this Sunday (aka yesterday) & forgot to post. I write a lot of stuff like this and then look over it and say, whoa, that's a lot of wittering…

  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded