Kage Baker always maintained that Mondays after a Fair weekend do not exist. They are a vacuum, wherein you find your way home, find your laundry and do it before it gets away, find clothes that belong to the current century and that don’t smell of fish, sawdust, incense, beer and 500 miles of roads and gas stations.

I did spend the weekend at Dickens Fair, and a wondrous time it was , too. I was just too tired each night, Dear Readers, to document it – but I will be able to spend the week doing that! I saw magic and art and cows, met a new quasi-grandson, bested many miles through insidious fog, had enough fun for 16 people, and saw the Queen. Talked to her, too. A Kate can look at a Queen, you know …

I got home today around 3, and have only now managed to settle down and type. (There was a cat in my chair, another on my keyboard, a parrot shrieking “Hi!” incessantly, and a Corgi  doing victory laps around my room.) And all I have to say is – I’m exhilarated, exhausted, starving, and going to bed as soon as I can get a few mouthfuls of dinner in my mouth. It’ll be a near thing …

But I made it to Fair and made it back, and I will tell you all about it starting tomorrow!