Author: Rene

Along with a gorgeous chalk display created by members of the family, this is the view we have on this beautiful Autumn day. Soaking in the sun.

In the midst of inconvenience you can learn a lot about people.

On my first flight where I was “carry-on-challenged,” my seat mates were most interesting. The young woman next to me had the same problem I had. We were in bulkhead, right at the front of the plane, and our seatbelts would not “click.” Our gentleman seat mate could not get ours fastened either. What did we do? We agreed to not say a word, thus flying without being strapped in properly. We didn’t want a mechanical called as we had tight connections. Ha!

Anyway, the man sitting with us had two astonishing stories. First of all, he was a survivor of the “Miracle on the Hudson.” He relayed the story of the bird strike which stopped the engines, the rescue, the reunions they have each year, the movie with Tom Hanks. Fascinating story. After his first tale of survival, I was curious about the bracelet he wore and queried him. It looked like those old POW bracelets we wore in high school.

The bracelet commemorated his brother, a firefighter who lost his life entering the World Trade Center tower on 9/11 to save others. It was a humbling story he told, even more so when he relayed that he was in the financial building across the street during the attack. He survived when his younger brother perished. That story proved just as extraordinary in all aspects as the first one.

I felt like I was traveling with a man both blessed and inspirational. I thanked him for sharing his stories and returned home with a renewed faith in humanity.

So there I was with my “tight connection” which turned into a good hour delay, sitting with my bag, wondering if anyone thought it was a pretty rose color. We finally boarded, I in the back of the plane with friendly passengers and a dog named Gus next to me under the seat. We sat. And sat. We had a mechanical! We could deplane, but of course, only if we dragged our bags with us.

I was SO wishing I had gate checked my bag because I would have gotten off for the 45 minute delay. But to drag a bag down and through the aisle again, only to come back with it to row 33? I sat, musing that we should just all deplane and get a new aircraft. Which we did.

Three hours later from the schedule we were on our way, with me unhappily lugging my bag to a new gate and tossing it overhead yet again. Of course, the good news was that I didn’t have to wait to retrieve it at DIA and my ride was swift in arriving near midnight.

I’m still checking my bag from here on out, “Ponna.” And you’re shorter than I am! How do you throw that thing up there?

Next time – part three – the blessings of travel.

Ever since ditching a Beatrix Potter themed diaper bag, oh so many years ago, (Why couldn’t we have had stylish backpacks?) I have been reluctant to tote luggage or unnecessary baggage. I never do carry-on when I travel. Never. I will take the risk of losing luggage (never happened) and wait in long lines for my battered belongings (new roll-on this year!) just so that I do not have to be shackled to a bag.

However, the connection from Key to Charlotte was super tight. I elected to try the carry-on approach for my return, even though it is a most deadly and unbecoming game. The fact that we fling all of this weight above peoples’ heads and yank it down always unnerves me. But it was my turn to try my hand or risk missing the last leg of the flight.

Thankfully, I was assisted both times in hauling the luggage up by gentlemanly seat mates. And with divine intervention I didn’t bang a single noggin’ retrieving my beautiful rose-colored carry-on.

I’m not good at this, though, and will still avoid carrying on so as not to have to share a bathroom stall with my bag. It did make a handy table for my salad though, the salad I scarfed down at the gate to give me energy for the last leg of the journey. The salad I could have spent hours enjoying.

More to follow!

I am the fifth wheel, but what a great one!

My brother was so surprised to see me in Dallas at the airport, connecting with his flight to Key West. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision and we have been enjoying the warmth and humidity as we siblings and spouses celebrate his “significant” birthday.

Just chillin’ with our friend.

It was chilly last night. The following dialogue ensued.

“Brrr. Don’t you have remote start?”

“Yes!” Fumbles in the dark looking for keys, can’t see the symbols. Proceeds to press all of the indents.

The lights come on, the car is awake, and the trunk opens!

If I hadn’t gone to the bathroom prior to leaving I would have peed my pants laughing as hard as we did.

“Technology is wasted on you, Mother.”

My kitchen faces East, and every morning I have a beautiful view of the rising sun and am privy to whatever is happening in the world of nature.

With Fall upon us I see those gossamer spider web threads everywhere. The light perfectly displays them on the deck railing, the lilac bushes, the hanging flower pots. They look so beautiful, but not so much in my laundry room where I was aghast at finding a rather large web in a corner.

Good old Walt came to mind as I was mesmerized by the glistening threads, thinking of where the bridges I’ve formed lead? Deep musings. Time for another cup of coffee!

“Cute” does not begin to describe my life when I am with a two-year old granddaughter. Hearing our adult selves in toddler-speak is adorable and a good reminder to watch our tongues!

Last night my little charge had a remote, the kind that turn LED candles off and on. They’re colorful and tiny. Last week she was pretending the remote was her phone and taking pictures with it. “It’s just be-tend, Gramma.” When I asked her about it yesterday, she said, “It’s my temote.”

“Oh! Remote,” said I.

“No, Gramma.” Then she placed her hands in her lap, looked at me and said, “Say, “temote,” like this. Can you say, “temote?”

I’m sure I’ll be in for many more lessons with this one!

‘We may not need to pass a penmanship test to get a job today, but it’s still a valuable skill to cultivate outside of school. Research shows that handwriting notes activates multiple brain regions associated with optimal memory, much more so than digital devices. Taking notes by hand or writing a to-do list on paper will preserve that memory a lot longer than typing into a laptop or phone.” Word Daily App Tidbit

It’s Monday – write that list with your best penmanship! I have four things on mine, but I’m thinking of rewriting it so that my exemplary cursive education may be put into practice more fully than the chicken scratch currently on display. Just thinking of Sister Marya and want to make her proud of her “Neatness Queen of the Third Grade.” (Boy, did I rewrite a ton of things to make them perfect in order to win that paper crown!)

Write on!

The hair salon was open for business. Three patrons chose to employ the skills of the highly-trained professional stylist. Things went swimmingly until the last unnamed customer.

The mane of this particular female is so thick, so thick, that my implement broke with the task of trying to trim a few inches. How can you break a pair of hair-cutting scissors? It is that thick and gorgeous, by the way. I understood why she needed inches off – it was too heavy!

Anyway, the aforementioned barber also does hair coloring and permanent waves, although that last offer hasn’t been tested for years. (And she is itching to dye her own hair purple with the coupon she found for some neon -colored dye!) Rumor is she works on the barter system.

“Bottle of wine and your hair will look fine.”

(This post dedicated to “Praft,” who taught me how to cut hair in college as she courageously gave me her locks on which to practice.)