After almost two weeks in London / Barcelona / Cape Town my lovely wife is finally on her way home.
In fact, she was supposed to be here by now . . . scheduled to arrive at 6pm this very evening.
Notice the time? Yeah. 8.10. PM. A late plane and missed connection and she is still, as I write, stuck in Johannesburg.
It's obviously not the funnest place in the world to be stranded . . . highest violent crime rate in the world and whatnot.
But luckily she's managed to find herself some bodyguards. I got a text saying she was having drinks with the St. George Illawarra Dragons. And their documentary crew.
It's got to be a rare thing to be told your wife is hanging out with a football team, and for it to make you feel better.