The washing hardly stirred on the line this morning, but Mu flew away into the eye of Storm Franklin in the middle of the night.
Bernie, who is more or less on one end of the spectrum in his river and woods, makes a spectacular shift to the other end at the airport. 
It was busy and he thought he knew everyone. Every sign caught his eye and every announcement caught his ear.
He came undone at the foot of the escalator and slipped his collar. I watched Mu's ascent to departures and her panic that we hadn't properly said goodbye.
I signaled to the lift which wasn't much better.
Her plane was delayed by over an hour and she was still in Toulouse by the time we got home.
I spent the night batting away my Worst-Possible-Scenario thoughts until her message pinged through at 4 a.m to say she'd arrived in Newry
and I finally fell asleep to the sound of the tail end of some other storm.