"Here we are...back in the car."
"At least we're not in the tree..."
                  . . . Jurassic Park

And me, I'm back at the airport.

James dropped me off about 8 a.m. with many tears on my part and then zipped off to work--he made it in with ten minutes to spare. I had already checked in online--handy thing that--and after depositing the bigger suitcase at baggage check trundled with my carry-on and "the Baby" (a.k.a. the laptop) to security. Believe me, I made sure I stopped at the bathroom first; the line was so long I couldn't see the end of it for at least three minutes. But it actually went fairly quickly.

My flight didn't leave for two hours, so I took my time getting to the gate. Had carried the granola I bought on Saturday with me--man, they really are cutting costs; we don't even get drinks on this flight!--and paid the usual exorbitant sum for a pint of orange juice from Starbucks to go along with it. The Burger King here doesn't have cinni-minis,but packets of Cinnabons already frosted in ick. I'd rather go hungry. Sugar frosting. Shudder.

As always I have found me a friendly electrical plug so I can merrily type away not using battery power. I have some el-cheapo magazines to read on the flight: the latest Woman's Day, Family Circle, and this week's Woman's World that I can toss out when I get done with them. (If I can wait that long, I have something yummier for the route back: two Country Living issues and a Cottage Living, which I don't particularly like but which is more fun to read than scrapbooking magazines--I got them all at JoAnn with 40 percent off coupons.) And I have a St. Nicholas, of course.

Well, getting close to time to board. Need to finish the juice and use the facilities. More later from your roving correspondent.

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. . . . . noted and logged by Linda at 9:55:00 AM

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