Slow lane

My last meeting in London was supposed to be from 10-12 on Friday 10 Sept. It started late and our Dutch consultant droned on and on (product playbook! governance playbook! product cycles! transitional strategy! leveraging insights! change management! cross-team dependencies!). I had to leave the meeting "early", at 12:15, b/c my time blocking meant 17 minute walk to Whitechapel tube station (with same heavy luggage that got me in trouble from Belfast to London); 45 minutes on the Elizabeth line to Heathrow; 3 hour pre-departure time; 8 hour flight.

All went smoothly until I arrived at my hotel in Pittsburgh late Friday night. It was a dump and there was no lift, so up two flights of stairs with my dreaded luggage. The next morning I had a very stressful encounter with the car rental agent back at the airport. Toll booths no longer take cash or let you tap your credit card, so I asked about my options. $25/day all inclusive or $11/day plus the cost of any tolls. This really annoyed me so I tried to study google maps and find a non-toll route. I sat in the Hertz lounge muttering "I hate travelling, I hate travelling" like some nutter. I couldn't figure out the optimal route and the agent said I had to pick up the car within 15 minutes. I got back in the queue to sign up for $10/day then she said I don't have to do anything now, I'll be charged when I return. So off I set, in a heavy fog, for my 2.5 hour drive to Parkersburg.

I had a show and tell with mom (Christmas presents for family members, the latest Richard Osman book, magazines for Aunt Kathleen) then took a shower then lunch on the back porch.

All trials and tribulations melt into the middle distance as I relax into the West Virginia vibe.

Sunday, after mass, we called in at the country club, where mom belonged for decades. I got a pair of golf shoes, on sale. Then Panera's for lunch then the mall, where I got another pair of golf shoes on sale. I'd say I paid less than half what I'd pay in the UK. I now own 5 pairs of golf shoes. Mom thinks this is ridiculous but she didn't play 18 holes (she played 9), she didn't play three times a week, she didn't walk (she took a buggy), and she didn't play year round in the muck and mire of Ireland. So she doesn't understand the life cycle of my golf gear.

Speaking of golf, after swimming Monday morning, mom and I went to the Golf Club of West Virginia and paid $20 for nine holes of golf, including buggy. What a deal!

This course is less than 15 minutes from her house and she'd never played it. I can't get my head around that. It's a beautiful course. She thoroughly enjoyed the round, despite the bumpiness of the cart paths. It was a gorgeous day. I played not terribly, given I was playing with borrowed clubs.

We ran errands in the afternoon and I marvelled at mom's endurance. I was absolutely knackered.

18 Sept