Captain’s log, Stardate 03112014: we have docked in the home of my elders, only to realize too late that they have made changes since we were last here and there is now one bed too few. This means that I will be bunking with Bosun Kicky McSmotherhugs. I have put on a brave face for the sake of morale. The road was largely uneventful, save for the spilled-latte-all-over-the-car incident. The crew has inexplicably declined my offer of dinner at my favorite Japanese steakhouse in favor of whatever I can scratch out of my parents’ largely unstocked larder. Worst of all, I have just learned that the small bag that contained, among other personal effects, my book – the only pleasure I had reserved for myself on this sojourn – is still sitting on the dining room table back at home base. I must now try to amuse myself over the course of this week with either the collected Hans Christian Anderson that I brought for the children, or my son’s copy of “The Ultimate Weird But True 2”. I can only pray that one’s comprehension of the latter is not predicated on a working knowledge of “The Ultimate Weird But True 1”. Hamilton out.