The Adventures of Swiss Ms.

Greetings, readers, should there be any out there remaining. I am touching down at our place for a day or so of rest and rejuvenation before heading out to spend the rest of my youth on a trip even I find slightly hare-brained. There will be much to say about this later but for now I will report on my recent trip which, in short, was delightful.

One thing you do not have to worry about in the UK, or at least in Scotland, is getting trapped in a fire. I am pretty sure that you can be anywhere within its confines and be within eyeshot of a fire extinguisher. They are also big on firedoors and emergency meeting places. If I had a fear of fire or was in the fifth grade safety unit this would be very comforting.  I am pretty sure Scotland is one of the safest places ever.

It is also one of the most heartily awarded places ever. I don't think we ever ate or slept anywhere that wasn't award-winning or top-ranked or recommended by someone or some board. Any feelings of specialness we had wore off fairly quickly. Elementary teachers, take note.

I sadly have no pictures to offer to you, as my camera chose to expire on our second day in Paris. Joining our family is apparently a death sentence for cameras, even those purportedly built like a tank. Anyway, the best moments are usually the humiliating and/or transcendent ones during which you would rather not have a photo of yourself.  I save these stories for regalement at a future date. Did I ever tell you the one about the time we ate at the miniature four-table restaurant of the Congregation of Beth Israel in Paris? . . . .