Now that I’m back I’m cleaning off my desk, and dealing with little chores that needed to be done.  Like ordering descaling and cleaning tablets for my Jura Capresso coffee machine.

I’m talking to the nice lady and she’s checking on the computer to see if I’m in the system and she asks — “Gregory Snodgrass?”  I say no.  “Melodie Snodgrass?”  No.  She then names two more people.  I started laughing and told her it’s a very rare name, there are only about 40,000 Snodgrass in the country, and we are all some degree of cousins.

She then tells me they have a dozen Snodgrass in the system and I made thirteen.  So I guess this rump Scottish clan all really like espresso, and all things Italian.

It was just so weird I had to share it.

Pictures and a travel journal are coming, I promise, but my sleep patterns are still all screwed up, and it’s all I can do to ride the horse, and take care of all the little brush fires that sprung up while I was gone.