For of all sad words of tongue or pen

The saddest are these: I have to go back to work tomorrow

(My apologies to John Greenleaf Whittier.) It is nice to be home, sleeping in my own bed, drinking coffee the way I like it out of my own coffee mug. And yes, ignoring the suitcase on the living room floor and the piles of dirty laundry until I've regained a little of the physical and mental energy to deal with them.

Here's a very small start on catching up on the backlog: a view over the sand dunes outside Abu Dhabi. (I added a border because the overcast sky blended into the white background of the blog page, and it looked dumb. I'm tired but still a nitpicker.)