Hanging

My excuse this time is some kind of bug I must have contracted down south, not conducive to writing.  It’s like being a zombie with a complete set of wrenches in my stomach.  Ouch.  I’ll get over it.

We’re in another holding pattern, awaiting the various inspection results, and some other technical delays.  There’s not much more for them to throw at us, it’s just a matter of waiting it out.

Outside, it’s incredibly in the 40s and headed for 50s!  A heat wave.  The snow and ice are finally melting.  I wouldn’t know, I haven’t been outside for days.

Time to make some Jewish Penicillin.

Here’s the ancient bridge between Kentucky and Cincinnati, OH, where we spent hours in a traffic jam, normal for Cincy, an old industrial city which looks like a scene from “Metropolis”.  It seems symbolic of all things Ohio, to me.

 

 

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