shades of red

Alex and I got some not-so-good family news this morning - our grandfather's had a heart attack, so the two of us and Jean are catching the next flight to Anchorage. We'll keep in touch, but obviously I can't say when we'll be back.

I really am ridiculously tired this week, for no good reason - it's not like we're in mid-crisis, and given that we're on the verge of spring break, the administrative work's been quieter. I just wish I could justify jumping on a plane and going somewhere equatorial. Sunlamps just don't cut it.

It's rather short-notice, but I've always hated leaving a job undone. I got a call from Hungary last night asking if one of us could come back and have some of the meetings that got cancelled, what with the assassination attempt and all... I'm heading back to Budapest tommorrow, and Jean's coming with me. I'm not absolutely sure when we'll be back, but end of the week at the latest.

The blender is under your control. Not that I really have the energy to be playing around in the kitchen, but I did manage to make something approximating lunch.

This whole wired-jaw thing would be a great weight-loss method, if I actually needed to lose weight.

Why was the cake singing?

It's the same damned knee as two years ago, too, so I'm liable to be hopping around for a while. Then more physio - I can't wait. I've spent the last fifteen minutes trying to convince Jean that she thinks a limp is sexy. She keeps laughing at me.

I suppose that once I get the hang of the crutches again, I'll be in overcompensation mode because of all the things I can't do for a few weeks. These are the times I invent whole new categories of paperwork - and get very creative with the Danger Room scenarios. Everyone on the team may hate me before September comes.

Never eating sushi again. Recording this for posterity.

Now that you're all safe, sound, and (mostly) intact, and have had some time to reflect on how truly wacky the field trip curse is getting when it starts sticking you in the middle of Spielberg movies... I had a point there, but it's been a long weekend.

I just want to say that I've gotten the full story from your chaperones, and you should all be very proud of how you handled yourselves. You were stuck in a very dangerous, more or less completely insane situation, and you all kept your heads about you and worked together to get out. I know that we aren't your average school, and that you all are exposed to crisis situations a little more often than you or any of your teachers would prefer, but even by those standards this has been a rather unusual weekend. Fittingly, your response was just as exceptional.

I'm going to 'suggest' to your teachers that attendance not be conducted as scrupulously tomorrow. I'd cancel classes altogether, but I know that some of you prefer to get right back to work after Incidents, so I wanted to leave that option open.

If any of you need or want to talk, the Professor, Ms. Munroe and I will have our doors open for the forseeable future.

I'm home, powers-problem all fixed. Suffice to say it's been a bit of a long week. You might not see me around much for a day or two - I'm supposed to be taking it easy. (We'll see how long that lasts.)

I'm always paranoid about leaving for any length of time. Call it a certain basic pessimism. So it's reassuring to come back and see that everything is pretty much the way I left it.

Who won the snow war? Or is it still ongoing?

I felt like pulling up a chair on the porch and studying the tactics being used. From what little I saw, it would have been very instructive.