flying | River's world…..

As we were driving down to Phoenix, I checked my Delta mobile app and saw that not only had our flight been cancelled due to bad weather, but that we’d been scheduled for one the following day… which was forecast to be an even worse storm.

Thinking oh Hell no, I called the airline and ~~argued, cursed,~~ ~~berated,~~ begged, pleaded, flirted, and okay…. promised a future child to secure us a flight for that day.

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It worked, but we couldn’t fly into Maine as planned and could only get as far as Boston. This forced the husband to frantically scour his phone contacts to see which friend he could talk into driving south 3 hours in a raging blizzard to pick us up.

You find out who your true friends are in situations like that.

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Yeah.

Because I can’t honestly say I would have done it.

And now….

The required ~~she has to have the window seat so she can take pictures even though she has no idea where or what they are~~ aerial photos.

No matter how many times I fly…

I’m always that geeky kid who gets a huge kick out of looking down on our world.

The ever changing landscapes never cease to thrill me.

The grandeur of the mountains…

The ridiculous giant tiddly winks….

It’s all good.

What do you do with a 4 hour layover in Minneapolis?

You drink….

You eat a surprisingly decent shrimp alfredo….

And watch this cowpoke couple play video games without speaking to each other for over an hour and a half.

Not one word.

Ah, modern living. Where the art of conversation is well and truly dead.

Long story short…

( Who am I kidding, I’ve never told a short story in my life. This vacation was 2 weeks long and it’s taken me 48 days to blog about it. But in my defense? There were a lot of rocks.)

We arrived home exhausted at 4:30 am… after a nail biting (just an expression, I pay way too much for these babies to nibble) 5 hour (should have taken 2.5) snow blinded (there must have been a road, but we didn’t see it) ice covered (slipperier than a Trump family lawyer) drive.

The end.

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No, truly.

No more rocks, no more vacation pics.

I don’t even have the next trip planned yet.

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And now..

Back to your regularly scheduled program.

(Sorry highlight people, but the vacation vote was 8 to 3 in favor of details and minutia. If that’s not your thing? Check back with me in a month. Maybe longer… it was a helluva trip!)

We started out at zero dead thirty.

Yes, that’s 12 minutes after 2 in the morning…. not my finest hour. I’m a chronic insomniac and usually don’t fall asleep before 1:00, so you can imagine how pretty I was leaving for the airport.

Delta did their best to make me feel special, but all I felt like was a zombie. (Probably looked like one too.) Did I mention I went for a slight trim before the trip and came back minus 10 inches of hair?

It used to be halfway down my back, so on what planet is this a trim? No more ponytail bad hair days for me. Anyway…

I’m one of those annoying fliers who has to sit by the window and gawk at our world from on high. It never ceases to amaze me…

Soaring above big fluffy clouds…

And little puffy clouds…

And mountains that look like crumpled paper… it never gets old. Airplane magazines however, do. I have to say I never realized their target audience was bald people.

Every other ad seemed to be about regrowing hair.

Sure, my hair can go to the gym… just leave the rest of me home on the couch and we’ll be fine.

We landed in Atlanta, which is always a zoo…. and I had to laugh at this hotel that was right on the runway.

Hell, I complain when I hear cars in the parking lot below my room… who needs a disembarking 747?

I’ve never been out west before and was oddly fascinated with the patchwork topography.

Crop circles? Or giant Pac Mans…?

The mountains meeting the desert was pretty impressive.

Phoenix? Not so much. Sorry, but I hate your airport. It’s not laid out well and the fact that your rental cars are miles away which force me to slog my giant stone filled luggage aboard a shuttle bus and sit like a stuffed sardine in cramped seats with a driver who takes pleasure in turning too tightly and seeing all his passengers flung from side to side is not my idea of a good time.

But I did get a kick out of Arizona cowboys…

Who apparently wear two hats at a time.

Driving out of Phoenix was a traffic nightmare and again, sorry Phoenix… but ugly. Brown, flat and boring. Though they did try to perk it up with some interesting highway rock art.