Though Spain should take Gibraltar

Because it didn't occur to me to have my camera on hand while doing book yelling on the couch with selkie, the only photographic evidence of the moment when my godchild dropped onto the couch behind me and cheerfully applied a sort of wrestling scissor to the middle of the conversation comes from my battleship-grey dreadnought of a substitute phone which, as a camera, is an A-1 flip phone.

( One rather startled gannet. )

I correctly guessed that his class assignment which required him to locate Spain, the Philippines, and the U.S.A. had to do with the Spanish-American War, but I can't rule out that I remember its existence because of Bob Dylan and Arsenic and Old Lace. Earlier in the day, when Selkie informed me of the upcoming and literal sunset of the British Empire, I got stuck with Flanders and Swann's "Rockall."

I have demonstrably spent more time with this branch of my family on this trip than has been possible in years and it seems ridiculous that I should have to leave in the morning. What is this nonsense of distances. Teleportation instantaneously.

Wonder where our love is bound

spatch met me at the airport with a tongue and chopped liver 50/50 from Mamaleh's which I ate in the car as we drove home down Route 1A. Have an inconsistent assortment of pictures taken over the last six days.

( All in green, all in green. )

It feels incredibly mid-century that I was able to turn miles on a credit card into round-trip tickets. I am very tired and have too much capitalism to get back to and the days run together and I had such a good time.