Here in London.
Everything. Is. Wet. But since it's not Rhode Island rain, I'll take it. It's fancy rain. British rain. Might be spelled "raine," in an olde worldy-style.
Have seen the Tube, poked around Buckingham Palace, walked in the pouring rain over Tower Bridge, and realized that Splenda has a strange granulation to it here.
(Every time Birdy tells someone where I am, she says, "Mama in Lemon." I miss my Bird.)
Exhausted and jet-lagged, but loving what walking around the city does for my blood sugars. (A 191 mg/dL was beaten into submission by a conservative correction bolus and a long walk.) The time change isn't being kind, in terms of lows, but I've dialed down the morning basal in retaliation.
Looking forward to meeting some UK PWDs tonight at the Tweet Up!
I will have sentences that make sense soon.