Home Jerome.

The intrepid blackfamilyo arrived home safely. As did all 8 checked and 6 carry-on bags. It's always lovely to get home, to rest in your own bed, with your own pillows and sheets, to shower in your own hopeless shower. The cats certainly missed us, and Lola has not stopped crying with joy since we walked in. Gad, the house/cat-sitter, blackmother-in-lawo and Aziza did a masterful job and the house looks better than we left it. Tomorrow bright and early it's off to work and to school - life goes back to normal.

The flights were pretty much OK actually. I had an empty seat next to me from Newark to TA (actually in both directions). I met a lady who owns Indiana's first and foremost bagel shop. She said her bialies are "to die for". I am now completely caught up on B rated airplane movies (I saw G.I. Joe, 500 days of Summer, Bandslam, Fame, Up, Aliens in the Attic, Julia and Julie etc. etc.) and so have no need to travel for a while. The kids slept the whole way thanks to the joys of sleeping pills, they have to go to school tomorrow, or else. I, myself, am tired, tired tired. Carrying those heavy carry-ons has tired me out.

Talking about carry-ons, there is something I just don't understand at all. What is with people that walk onto the plane late, and then expect there to be a place in one of the closed overhead bins for their huge carry on luggage. Clearly it sucks if your plane has been delayed and you arrive just as the doors are closing - that I can understand. But there are countless people that wonder onto the plane and are completely surprised when the overhead bins are full. Come on, it's not the noughties any more.