Well, it's that time of year again. That time of year when my employer twists my arm and makes me go to a continuing education conference in a warm and sunny place. All seemed to be going as planned until we got a light dusting of snow on Sunday. Knowing that snow rarely stays in Lewiston, we hurriedly changed the kids from their PJs to snow clothes and raced outside to play before church.
Well, the snow stayed...and stayed.
And, yesterday, even MORE snow was dumped on Lewiston. Our first flight out was cancelled. We rebooked to an earlier flight. Then schools closed. Then the city offices closed. Then our second flight was cancelled. The very nice Alaska Air lady told me I could either hope to fly out of Lewiston a day late or try to drive to Spokane for a different flight.
We drove to Spokane. It took us 3 1/2 hours.
Our flight taxied down the runway, only to turn around and return to the gate. It was de-iced again. I started to feel like God might be trying to tell me something. "Get off the plane! Don't go on the trip!" but instead, I drank a large glass of wine and settled into a magazine.
We finally made it to Seattle, ate dinner, and boarded our red-eye to Miami only an hour later than planned. Whew.
We left our little snow angels with Lala, thinking they'd go to daycare during the day and she would be on night duty, tough enough by itself. But, with the snowstorm, Lala's office closed, so she picked up the kiddos and spent ALL DAY AT HOME WITH THE KIDS. (You readers with small children know why this is in all-caps).
Our travel day was peppered with her texts:
"r u still in Ltown i need milk."
"nd is going to send me to an early grave"
"where is eucerin cream?"
"u forgot to tell me i had to draw a car or motorcycle on sams nighttime pullup"
"call me when u can" (that was just so she could vent--no broken arms...yet. Quick, knock on wood, turn around and spit!)
And, this morning, we have this view out of our hotel room.
We have unpacked, gone for a run on the beach, and are living a life of leisure.
Lala, we love you. We owe you--well, I'd say our firstborn, but you'd probably rather have a Starbucks.