My mortal enemy, fog

Well well well. There was fog at Hobart airport.

Delays grew, we boarded three hours late, we flew circles around the Great Lakes for some time waiting for it to shift, it did not, we diverted to land in Launceston, we refuelled and waited on the tarmac for the fog to shift, it did not.

We bussed to Hobart, we pulled over with a suspected flat tyre but kept going, not to the city mind you, naturally, the airport, where we promptly missed a turn and had to go round twice.

At nearly 4pm instead of 7.30am, I was boots on the ground in Hobart, and into Branna's arms, both of us laughing hysterically. She delivered me home, where thanks to her my plants were still alive and there was food in the fridge.

There were also coming home gifts! A letter, a card, a PAINTED PORTRAIT OF BYRON, BLOCKY YOU'RE UNBELIEVABLE, flowers, some thrifted treasures. How lucky am I to have a life this sweet waiting for me.Read more