Open Your Golden Gate...

Well, the Powers That Be that guide my life (at least in its 9-to-5 variations) certainly are puzzling.  Having decisively put me, last year, into a quiet corner where I can do no harm, they've suddenly decided to release me once more out into the great wide world...

Yes, thanks to a colleague's sudden Personal Issues (much less dire than that sounds, having, I believe, something to do with a faulty sump pump and our extraordinarily - appallingly, really - damp spring), I am at the last minute joining a doughty team that will be flying west this weekend to ply our Human Resources trade out in sunny (one hopes) California.

I really can't complain - two weeks in San Francisco, even in a likely dreary businessperson's hotel and with a great deal of work, is nonetheless two weeks in San Francisco. It will be the first time I've been out that way in more than 20 years, and while enjoying my Complimentary Continentalesque Breakfast featuring Just Like Freshly Brewed Name-Brand Resembling Coffee Beverage, I'll try not to dwell on the fact that last time, due to my trailing in the wake (and employ) of the artistic Great and Good, I enjoyed the city from the admirable vantage point of a very comfortable little suite at the Mark Hopkins.

The Mister is being very nice about the whole thing, especially given that he'll have to be looking after our two little monsters even though this is just about his busiest season. This will be my first solo travel of any duration since last year's Great Unpleasantness, and I think he's more anxious than he lets on, but I will do my best to be sensible and return in one piece. Given the appalling working hours we keep while on the road, I'm afraid late nights and wild times may be few and far between, but even so, I hope to have a little fun. Peenee lives out that way, after all, and I can't imagine anyone more likely to lead a boy astray...