A Wing and a Prayer

Livng on a prayer...a wing and a prayer that is. OMG, I'm so sorry to be talking about our trip,yet again, as you say to yourselves, "Go, Go, just get outta Dodge!". The last two nights I've been sleeping in train stations, intermittently all night long. I can't take it anymore. I just want 5:15am to get here so Mr. Taxi Driver can take us away. This morning I decided to put myself out of my misery and book our rail travel. I went through the grueling process of committing to a time and place. I entered all pertinent information regarding the travelers (us!) and got to the last screen that said I had to be a U.K. resident to book it. I found the equivalent USA site and repeated the entire process only to get to the last screen that asks to where in the U.S. do you want your tickets mailed. No such thing as e-tickets? Ay, caramba! I'm not sure why I'm stressing so much over this. Could it be I'm responsible for the four kids' vacation of their lifetime? I closed my lap top and went for a walk to clear my nonstop ticking head, and the voice of Uncle Antonio began speaking to me. Not my Uncle Antonio, but brother-in-law Bob's, Uncle Antonio of Italian descent. He was repeating his signature line: Fuh-getta bout it! I think I'm just gonna let it ride with Uncle Antonio on this one. The planning is over Rover, prepare for take off!

Updated Paris forecast while we are there. We couldn't ask for anything better.


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