It is time, once again, to throw back our heads and let out one of those great lunatic laughs...

We are going on a trip this weekend, and I have been laboring under the delusion that our flight left at 8am on Thursday morning, which would mean being at the airport around 6am to park and check luggage and all of that. Since we only live 15 minutes from the airport, that is not that big a deal. Pack the car before going to bed, etc. (complicated by the fact that our house is being fumigated while we are away, so we have to remove all food and plants tomorrow), which is a hassle, but really not that bad. Right?

I can get up at 5:30. No problem. I used to do that on a daily basis to do my swim workout.

Well, today I looked at our itenerary and the flight leaves at 6:10! Is it even legal for planes to fly that early? Does this mean that we have to be at the airport by 4:30?!? Awake at 4, then? Do I bother to go to bed? Well, since we won't be getting to the hotel until the afternoon, I suppose I should, lest I fall asleep at one of the events we need to be at.

Anyway, I am not really complaining, because I really like that time of night/morning (and not just because of the happy memories of fishing trips that began at hours like that). The air always feels a little charged, while the darkness feels particularly thick. The roads are eerily empty, and the folks that you see out are all out for a good reason.

I remember when I used to travel with a band and we would see some interesting stuff at those hours (some weekends we would have a Friday gig in Sacramento, then a Saturday gig in LA, then would have to get back north on Sunday to be in the studio. You end up driving at strange hours).

Flying at the crack of dawn is exciting, too, especially in the desert. If my calculations are correct, we should get some striking light over the Salton Sea, which is one of the most fascinating things out there.

I will plan on sleeping, because we have a non-stop day scheduled from the minute we land until bed, but the temptation to keep my sketchbook out might just be too much to resist.

And, yes, take this as a warning that blogging might be light to nonexistant until Monday. I will try to post some little tidbits on Lauda Sion, Pange Lingua, or salt-cod and ceci cakes served with horseradish aioli (yes there is a story behind this one), but packing up all the food, carting our houseplants to Melanie's office, etc., might leave me with no time before we go.