Oh, jet lag. You are the price we pay for the kind of travel that I love . . . but how I loathe you.
I made it to 10 p.m. last evening. And was wide awake at 2.45 a.m.
By 5.30 a.m., after a nap with Auggie snoozing beside me, I gave up and pulled on the heavy robe and ventured downstairs.
Laundry awaits. As does the put-up-Christmas activities.
But first, biscuits for breakfast, then Morning Prayer for The Feast of the Epiphany!