Home again, home again, jiggity jig

As you can see, I did not get a great deal of time to blog while I was in Costa Rica and San Francisco. I do have some posts I want to write, and I'll try to get them up in the next week or so.

In the meantime, a couple of snippets about my seat neighbour on my flight home.

Towards the end of the flight, as we were waiting for breakfast to be served, he asked me if I was an athlete, a gymnast or a dancer. I managed to avoid cracking up ... but only just.

For context, during flights, I tend to spend a bit of time with my feet up in the air - yes, even while seated in economy - and at one point during the flight I had climbed out over the armrests, because both my neighbour and the person on the aisle were asleep. My neighbour had apparently woken up while I was gone and wanted to check he wasn't dreaming.

At the end of the flight, he turned his phone on and was muttering to himself: "20 messages ... That's what it's like in the film world, you're famous one day and nobody knows you the next ..."

I was feeling too curmudgeonly to respond to what seemed like fairly obvious bait. But I did have a little chuckle to myself.

Then it was immigration, quarantine (where they were completely uninterested in the items I had to declare), a rush hour train and home to my cats. Who seem to remember me and, what's more, based on current levels of snuggling, may have even forgiven me, if only because I brought them a new box.