No, the title of this post doesn’t make any sense. But hey, it’s a little like me that way. 
So let’s see. I haven’t updated in a while and I’m sure you’re all wondering how things are going. Did I make it back home? Did I get swallowed by a big whale on the ferry ride back from Marseille?
Actually, things were pretty uneventful. The Pascal Paoli boat was a lot smaller then the first one I took, so there were even fewer places to sleep. The shipping company forced me to "upgrade" to a "sleeper chair" since, due to boating regulations for boats of this small size. (There must be a seat for everyone, etc.) The sleeper chair is actually nothing more then a reclining (kind of) chair similar to the ones you find in economy class on an airplane. Not exactly a model of comfort.
Thus, I opted to "recline" on the floor in the middle of the hallway, thank you very much. It was not a good sleep, but sufficient for the price. (7 Euros for the "sleeper chair" I did not use.)
Upon my return home, I unloaded the boxes and then proceeded to spend the rest of the week with my sister-in-law and niece. What fun! We had a great time, and it was wonderful to see them. Amy is growing fast and it was great to spend some time with her. One of the things I think I’ll "regret" (I use the word loosely) about moving abroad is not seeing my nieces and nephew very much. I miss them a lot, so it was nice to see Amy.
I got stung by a wasp. On my tongue. Yes, it hurt.
We went to a beach somewhere and I was eating a "meat patte" sandwich (a baguette smothered with patte), but there were a lot of wasps. We moved our picnic over a bit further down the beach, but they followed us. Anyway, I wasn’t paying attention when I took a bite… and thought that the "crunchy" I felt was just the bread since it was a little overcooked. At first I thought maybe I had just bitten my tongue, but it’s impossible to bite the *middle* of your tongue. (Go ahead and try it now, if you want..)
No. It wasn’t a bitten tongue and it wasn’t a piece of bread crust. It was a wasp. It must have stung my tongue just before I ate it, because immediately after that chew my tongue really started to hurt. Then it hurt a lot more, and that’s when I realized I just ate a wasp. After it stung my tongue.
So there you go. How many of you have had a stung tongue before? I don’t even know if there are hospitals on this island. Good thing I’m not allergic, eh? OK, I do know there is one hospital. In Bastia, which is 500,000 curvy road turns away from where we were. Try driving *that* with a tongue hangling out of your mouth. (Hangling is my word for "hanging" and "dangling". Do you like it?)
Speaking of words. Oh never mind. I’ll save it for a future blog. This is enough for now. Apparently some of my readers (Jeff!) prefer shorter entries since their attention span is akin to my wife’s. (Um.. short. About as long as it takes to read this sentence.)
And yes, I’ll try to write more frequently. Sorry about the long delay…. 
