Itineraries are us and other useless information

This is my 20th post of 2026 and the 2,336th post since this blog began back on Sepember 28, 2007. I know you probably don't care but I sense an inner need to report it anyway.

My blogging has slowed down tremendously this year. In some years I have written 100 posts by this time. I don't know how Neil (Yorkshire Pudding) and Rachel (My World) keep blogging day after day after day.

This is a very busy time in our lives. Mrs. RWP (the lovely Ellie) will be observing her 91st birthday at the beginning of next week (she must remember to call her cousin in North Carolina who will be observing her 81st the day before) and at the end of the week our one and only grandaughter who is fifth among our six grandchildren in birth order and the only one unmarried is, wait for it, getting married! She and her young man, whose name is Ryan, have planned strategically. I will elaborate.

All of her family live in various affluent suburbs northwest of Atlanta (except for the ones in Alabama and Florida and other parts of Georgia) and all of his family live in various affluent suburbs northeast of Atlanta, so a neutral location that was both semi-convenient and semi-inconvenient to all interested parties was sought and chosen in the affluent suburbs that are due north of Atlanta (neither northwest nor northeast) for the rehearsal, the rehearsal dinner, the wedding ceremony, and the reception afterward. All of these events will take place next Friday and Saturday afternoons and evenings, and rather than driving back and forth to our homes during pre-rush-hour, rush-hour, and post-rush-hour traffic (the congestion never stops), some of us will be staying in a posh hotel in the area. Trust me, nothing (okay, very little) is less than posh in the affluent suburbs due north of Atlanta.

It has been many moons since I used the word 'posh' in a sentence. I remember from a song in the movie Chitty Chitty Bang Bang that the word is an acronym for "port out, starboard home" and was marked on the steamship tickets to indicate passengers who wanted staterooms with the best views of the African coast while traveling from England to India during the Victorian and Edwardian eras.

Maybe the hotel is only semi-posh. When I find out I will let you know.

I have heard rumours that a short wedding trip is planned to Charleston, South Carolina (a lovely place) and a longer one may also occur a little later to either Vancouver, British Columbia (that's in Canada) or possibly somewhere in Europe (because the bride vacationed year before last in France, Switzerland, and Holland and had a great time). Grandparents are often the last to know.

With all these activities looming, I probably won't be blogging again until after the festivities are over and done with and receding into history. Although my readership is small, I thought you ought to know about my impending absence.

At the very least, if Yorkshire Pudding can report on going to Mallorca and Rachel can report on going to Azerbaijan, I can report on going to the affluent suburbs due north of Atlanta.