continual peripatetic jaunting

We're almost home -- now on our very short stopover (just an overnighter) in Iceland. (Sorry to all of you in Iceland who wrote and asked if you could interview me while I was here, talk to me for your thesis, show me round, organise a signing, or have me give a talk to lots of interested people. Given how exhausted I am after this week, my plans are a) eat, b) sleep, c) eat again, and d) fly home. I�ll come back one day...)

I'm on my way home with the same number of daughters I started with, and they have the same number of limbs and eyes, so I'm doing all right there.

The Whisky Shop in Heathrow Terminal One had a bottle of 1954 Strathisla, the first I've seen for some years, so I bought it rather happily. I'm not a single malt person like some whisky people I know are, but that stuff makes me astonishingly happy. And it gets drunk astonishingly slowly, as well...

Can't get at e-mail right now, so if yo�'re waiting for a reply, you needs must wait until I'm home.