Arrived in Florida

We arrived in Tallahassee last night on time. The flight wasn’t so bad, actually. It was on Delta, and they asked us to mention in our blogs that the first leg of our flight from San Francisco to Atlanta was a half hour early!

The flight itself was an adventure. I brought 3 knitting projects with me, two of them on double pointed needles (dpns). Keep in mind these needles have to be metal now, due to Serra’s love of eating all destructible knitting supplies. When they got to my bag in the scanner, they stopped the x-ray machine. I just kept thinking “oh, s^$t, they’re going to confiscate my needles.” Apparently, I’m a bit paranoid, because it turns out they only stopped the machine due to a backup that I hadn’t noticed down the line. (Wake up and pay attention for once will you, sheesh!)

We boarded the plane, and I had seen that there were 2 open seats. I kept my fingers crossed that we wouldn’t have a third seat mate, but the worst happened: not only did we get a seat mate, but he was really sick. His nose was constantly running and he looked sweaty and gross. My husband had to sit next to him for the full 4 hours, and apparently the guy had bad breath. I have a weak immune system and I catch everything, so I expect to have the flu in a few days, wrecking my trip. Seriously, next to the screaming baby, that is my worst nightmare. Oh, the agony. I kept that bottle of Purell out the entire trip. I’m not a germophobe, but I do resent people who come to a place where they either are in close contact with other people or in a high touch situation (like dance class) with a raging cold. There are people who can be killed by contracting things like that. In my case, I just stay sick for months. Did I mention that travel stresses me out?

At least on the trip I was able to make progress on my socks.

sock progress

I have to get going in a few minutes (we are heading for our friends’ beach house in Panama City), but I’ll leave you with a final picture:

Serra in shoe box

Serra believes she is a small cat – she’s not, she’s 16 pounds, close to 17. She loves to get in my shoe boxes. See how that box is bent?


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