Amazing what has happened in a week.
The flight down was long, as flights tend to be when you are in a hurry to arrive somewhere. A long, long journey from my flat to LaGuardia... I left the house at 4.30AM and arrived at the airport at 6.30AM, via two buses and a train. The public transportation system of New York is arduous but, it does deliver.
The day I chose to fly was the day the FAA tightened up it's two carry on's mean two carry on's... so, my purse now counted... turned back by TSA, I checked my small carry on, and then actually had two carry on's instead of two carry on's and a purse.
I had an easy time on the flight, if you remove the fact I sat in the first row behind first class... the class that receives food... something American doesn't serve to we peons. The smell of cooked breakfast wafted back to my seat, causing me to drool a bit onto my useless laptop... useless because although I loaded my i-Word, I neglected to bring my serial number... I have with me a pretty paperweight here in the wilds of Mississippi. No WiFi, no way to do any writing... currently I am using an ancient eMachine and dial up.
The flight to New Orleans from Miami started with passengers pointing at me as I boarded....and laughing.
They were all wearing shorts and flip flops.... I still had on my sweater and jeans from New York. I had the great good luck to sit in front of the loudest man I've ever heard. He was drunk before we left... his girlfriend kept shushing him.. as if that helped.
Mid-way to New Orleans... it happened.... three rows ahead.... a man became ill and an announcement was made, "If there is a doctor is on board, please make your way to row 15".
Two men moved to the row... one from 1st class, one from coach. If I had been the ill person, I'd have waved off Mr. Coach. If you are a doctor and can't afford 1st class, don't come near me!
We all peered over the seat backs (with the exception of Big Mouth who shouted "IS HE DEAD??") to see what was on... the ill party had a bit of a convulsion, it seems.... had a shot from his bag, and all was well.
The rest of the flight was foodless and dull. Upon landing, while we stood and waited for the crowd to surge forward, Big Mouth was talking to his companion who had given up on keeping his voice down.
"I can't wait for JazzFest. I'm going to have a great time... right baby??" He grabbed her ass.
I turned and asked, "What day are you flying back?"
"Whew. I was worried... I'm leaving Thursday... and I was concerned I'd have to change my flight."
I don't think he found that as amusing as the people around us.
Oh, and they lost his luggage. heh.
Tons more fun.... planted what seems to be a zillion plants in the rich soil of my mother's yard, her little cottage is just that... sweet and a cottage and very dear.
The town has no theater, no place to buy coffee, nothing. She wants me to move here. Granted, Craftsman style homes abound, the air is full of flower scents, green is everywhere, people wave and stop and ask how you are. She is having an operation on Tuesday to have a kidney removed... when she returns in a month, there will be casseroles and ladies to drop by and clean the house... they have purple hair and fluttery hands. Say a little prayer, to whomever, if you would, please.
Me? I've fallen into the way of life already. How do I know?
Weather Guy was in New York for the weekend, and called... "I can't adjust to your voice, with that accent."
My, oh, my....