Deep breath, and jump.

There is a certain kind of uncertainty travelling into the unknown.

Yeah, England is not Terra Incognita, but it's only a place of which I've dreamed.  I'm not even sure I can point to something I've read that doesn't paint that far-away city as the Land of Victoria.  In my dreams there are horse-drawn lorrys and flickering street lamps and Bobbys in funny hats.

When the reality meets my dreams, there will be a moment of "eep."

I'm reasonably prepared.  Today was a lot of housework, mowing the lawn, preparing the laundry, going to the store to buy a few things, and closely monitoring my health.  Tomorrow, I'll get up early and pack and by 5 pm, the adventure will have begun in earnest.  And by earnest, I mean I'll be sitting in a small airplane seat, looking forward to the 3 hour layover in Minneapolis.

I have a friend, whom I will refer to at the Amazing Becks, who plans EVERYTHING.  And she's just a little bit appalled that I'm planning almost nothing.  I'm pretty much playing it by ear.  The only thing that is really planned is that on Monday, I board a plane to go from London to Truro in Cornwall, and then the following Saturday, I get on a train to go back to London.  And then, of course, I'll get on a plane and come back here, hoping that the cities of Bismarck, Mandan and Minot are still reasonably above water.

Minot is in a bad way; the river jumped several feet, thanks to lots of rain in Canada.  If you got a minute or two, send some good thoughts their way.  It's may get worse before it gets better.

And I've warned family and friends; if I like it, if it sings to me like a siren without the rocky shoal, I'll send word...pack the cats, sell the house, come on down.

If that does NOT occur, you'll hear from me.  Transmission might be hazy; my hotel in London has
wi-fi of course, but I cannot be sure of the country manor.  I'll take pictures.

Talk to you soon.