Traveling With A Saint

We arrived home to Málaga yesterday (Tuesday) morning. I feel great at the moment. Well, not at this specific moment. OK, now I feel great again. But only at the moment. Jet lag and two months of non-stop activity and travel.

I have four gazillion photos to sort through and then share. But, don’t worry, I plan to hone that down to under three gazillion. Today I’ll simply share what it looks like to travel with San Geraldo.

It’s a good thing I don’t care about what anyone thinks (within reason).

On the other hand, San Geraldo is clearly without reason.

AMAZINGLY, NOT SAN GERALDO UNDER THAT BLANKET.
FLYING FROM NEW YORK TO MINNEAPOLIS.
COMING IN FROM THE SCREEN PORCH AT NEPHEW AND
NIECE-IN-LAW’S, RYAN AND EMILY’S, SIOUX FALLS, SOUTH DAKOTA. 
GREAT-NIECES AND GREAT-NEPHEW (ELOISE, ALICE, AND BENNETT).
THEY WARMED THEIR BACKS AT THE FIREPLACE AND THEN WARMED SAN GERALDO.
(THAT’S AN ‘ELOISE’ STICKER ON HIS FOREHEAD.)
AT A SUPPER CLUB IN SAINT PAUL, MINNESOTA (MORE ON THAT LATER).
I HAVE NO RECOLLECTION OF WHAT WAS GOING ON HERE. (TOWEL AND FAN BOTH?)
BALLARD, WASHINGTON (IN SEATTLE).
TOO COLD. NO HAT.
BALLARD (AGAIN).
TOO SUNNY. NO SUNGLASSES.
NEW YORK TO MÁLAGA.
OK, EVERYONE WAS COLD.
PHASE 2. IT GOT A LITTLE BETTER LATER IN THE FLIGHT.
FED UP WITH ME AND MY CAMERA: “UH, JERRY, MAYBE YOU
WANT TO TRY AGAIN… WITH THE CORRECT NUMBER OF FINGERS.”
“THAT’S MY BOY!”