In theory, theory and practice are the same...

And in theory, Younger Son should be headed out toward train and then subway and then airplane(s) on his way to St. Petersburg.  Or Leningrad, or Petrograd, or whatever the Evil Empire calls that place these days.  If any of you people possess an ample supply of Heathrow Grease to slip them through that nonsense, we'll pay.  No further word on flight rescheduling.

Nothing much else to report.  Sidewalk paving has passed our house, sorta like the Angel of The Lord passing over the Kingdom of Egypt.  At least our firstborn son was elsewhere at the time.  Now the paving gods are marking up State Street and digging up manholes and drains _there_, at the end of our block, in preparation for repaving.  Is there no end to this persecution?

Don't bother to answer that.  We know.