Up at five thirty tomorrow, which theoretically will put me on European time, but on what I think is technically called "the wrong day," given that I have to be in an upright position, with legs carefully placed, till late on Wednesday. I take L. and E. to the airport and then I'm hoping for a brief snooze between other tasks, before I take off for the airport at one thirty, headed north and then, with aid of a sharp right turn, towards a place no one in the banking business can name. I mention this deficit because, following the wishes of said community, I called today to tell credit and debit people that I shall be in foreign parts. "England, Belgium and Germany." Said one tele-person in Nevada, "Italy and where now?" "Eng-land, Bel-gi-um and Ger-man-y." "Bur, where?" Shame there isn't a website where you can click on Bur-where and just be done with it. While I was sorting through a backlog of mail I decided to find out why I haven't received the $25 card I was promised during the Christmas season for using one credit card x number of times. The first lady put me on hold and then...disconnected me after fifteen minutes. The second fellow said that he had all the data on his screen, but couldn't see why I hadn't been sent a $25 card. I said I'd keep opening mail until he found out. Thirty minutes later we were no further ahead. A file had been opened by the backroom persons and I could expect to hear soon. Would, I asked, that be by phone call, mail, some other medium? He wasn't sure. By this time I couldn't be bothered to wait for the questionnaire to tell them exactly, on a scale of one to five, how close they'd come to achieving customer satisfaction. I wish I could tell you I cleaned the house from top to bottom. I merely managed what I could, which included removing oily rags from the painting studio in case they had a mind to combust spontaneously, and generally compressing my spine with bits of lifting, which tends to make a man grumpy and is not the ideal precursor to a journey. Yoga will be performed, possibly in the backroom. Wensleydale seems to be doing better. The next Sunday missive may be from a different continent. Or not. Depends whether or not planes and pilots still know where Belgium and Europe are. The house-sitter does. I bet said personage will be able find the airport without even having to "open a file." Do carry on while I'm gone. David Ritchie, Portland, Oregon ------------------------------------------------------------------ To change your Lit-Ideas settings (subscribe/unsub, vacation on/off, digest on/off), visit www.andreas.com/faq-lit-ideas.html