Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity-Jig

We're settled back into our little condo, still smiling happily when anyone asks us how our trip was. I think it was just 'zakly what I needed--I feel like a calmer, more put-together person after our little pond-hopping escapade. And I can read "Harry Potter" and Dickens with a knowing wink-and-a-nod. And a very brilliant British accent in my head.

(For the most part, we managed to avoid letting those British accents out into the open while we were actually in Britain. Except the one time that Jason insisted on asking two little merry men running through Sherwood Forest if they'd "seen ye olde sheriff." I think the small boys were torn between being afraid of the strange man and confused at his really very appalling accent.)

It's positively blustery outside, much more like lionish early March than mid-April. Sadly, I am currently wearing a turtle neck sweater. In April. At least so far the weatherman's outlandish prediction of "possible snow" has not been fulfilled. One good side effect of the storm (for me, anyway), is that Jason's trip to New York City for a meeting at the UN has been postponed until morning. We are about to enjoy one last bowl of pasta until we take the plunge into the South Beach Diet. My goal tonight is to make myself so sick of delicious pasta that I don't even want it for two weeks...