But the thing is...it turns out that what I want is not actually croissants and strawberry jam. It's that my brain has used this as a signal for "travel abroad." It's what I had for breakfast in London when we were there in '05, and in Paris and London in '95. I sometimes even had it for breakfast in our various Scandinavian travels before that, although at that young age I was still even willing to eat gjetost first thing in the morning sometimes. I was unwary, at the age of 9-turning-10. I have learned better now.
Well, it's not abroad, no matter how often I joke about it being a different country, but we have tickets to fly into SFO on Saturday, February 24, and to fly out on Friday, March 2. I'm still waiting to hear from a few close people about scheduling, and then I will sit down and scowl at a notecard and wonder who can be combined with whom and when. And how I can get House of Nanking calamari out of the deal.
Further travel for the year is still up in the air, by which I mean quite possible and even likely.
When markgritter is done with work stuff -- and I have no idea when that will be -- we will load up the car and head out, to Omaha for the weekend. Any connectivity between our departure and Sunday supperish will be a fluke, as my grandparents do not have connectivity. Between now and then, I'm working on this short story some more, and packing, and walking the dog. Nothing thrilling, but still just fine.