Nothing says 'one of those weeks' like being packed off first thing on a very small plane on an out-of-town 'heritage emergency.'*

Now sitting in a Chinese-Australian restaurant faffing on my mini iPad because I hate going back to the (invariably) 1950s -style motel for the night. Getting some flinty-eyed stares from the restaurant owner, who is clearly aggrieved because it's 8.00pm and he wants to close up shop for the night.
(Postscript: he solved his problem by simply switching the lights off and standing by the door jangling his keys as a not-very-subtle hint).

A wild night back at the motel beckoneth. Working on playing catchup with people's journals - unbelievably far behind and if it helps I'm feeling godawfully guilty about it.....
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*Translation: earthquake, volcano, act of God, or an awfully convenient fire with highly suspicious indicators on a heavily insured, highly significant site.