Grandpa seems to be doing better. Mommy has been keeping everyone up to date, so I'll send you over to her site for the latest (if you haven't been there already).
By the way, for that link, I accidentally discovered a new way to select text with this thing: click the mouse at the end of the text you to select, then move the cursor to the front, press Shift, and then hit the mouse again. Presto bingo!
I don't really feel like jabbering on about my life while Grandpa's in the hospital and other important things are going on, but I guess that's the point of this blog, especially right now. Anyway, I should tell y'all about the trip over here now, while I'm running on 1 hour of sleep, because...
... That fateful Saturday morning, no surprise, I woke up in Ardith's apartment with 2 hours of sleep under my belt, far from ideal but I wasn't expecting ideal. We left in the rain, a lovely gloomy start. I was tremendously excited but this excitement steadily plunged as Chicago approached. Stopping for lunch at Subway wasn't long enough and the next thing I knew, Ardith was deserting me on the border of O'Hare security, telling me not to have too much fun in France. Was she kidding? France was the last place I wanted to be just then. I had said goodbye to Daddy the week before, then to the kids when Mommy and I left for Ardith's, then to Mommy at Ardith's, but this was it. No more Hoyts for four months and everything after this would be new and I didn't know how I was going to survive.
It was a lot of sitting, but excitement over the first plane ride balanced that out. I had to wait 1.5 hours to board the first flight, then we were a little delayed getting to the runway. Whoa! When we were finally taxi-ing into takeoff position in a string of planes, I could hardly contain myself, thrilled and about 77% sure that the technology would never make it and we were all going to die. Of course, it was a rainy day so not much to see of Chicago, though I had a window seat. Every time the plane banked (especially to my side) I braced myself for a downward spiral, but it was fun. Daddy and Mommy, you were right: take-off and landing are the most fun (take-off a little more so).
Someone forgot to adjust the time on either my print-out itinerary or the ticket, becuase I was positive I would miss my connecting flight, and that was before I knew how much walking lay ahead. Well, I got there with half an hour to spare. Whew. I'd thought about getting along without my luggage in Paris, but not about my luggage getting along without me.
A slightly bigger plane with two aisles (first was a Boeing 737, second an Airbus - 300?). Again a window seat, but this time someone arrived to sit next to me, a French lady just across the aisle from her husband. She must have been a seasoned traveler because promptly after takeoff she had settled down with the pillow and blanket provided and slept for probably 7 of the 8 hours. So I didn't take anyone's good advice and get up to stretch my legs and iron out the blood clots. 9 hours (if you count all the pre-takeoff, etc.) is a long time to be stuck in one seat, but the seats are just big enough to maneuver around a little. I rather wanted to eat the chicken instead of the pasta for dinner (not that either would have been gourmet)... "Chick'nor pasta?" "Chick'nor pasta?", but figured the carbs had more sleep-punch than the protein, and it wasn't bad, especially the yummy cream dessert. Slept maybe an hour, hour and a half, maybe a little more if you could dozing. The next morning I shot a couple photos since I knew Mommy would never forgive me or let me back into the will if I didn't get something on the plane, which photos I have yet to post but maybe this weekend I'll get around to remembering to download them into the laptop... things having been so hectic around here with no homework and all.
Oh goodness, that is way too long of a post about nothing important. So we landed in Paris and I got out and stumbled through getting my baggage and passing Customs (literally, nothing to do) and was just set to go under completely when Tiffany's arm came around my shoulder. Tiffany and Catey were truly wonderful to pick me up at the airport, and Drew (Catey's husband) made some truly excellent egg-cheese-sausage crepes, and they saw me safely onto the train to Dijon.
And I think that's all for today.
2 comments:
This was fun to read Sharon :-)
My first airplane ride was 2 years ago to Tampa...it was fun but long enough. I like you had the same feelings of impending doom at every plane movement. I'd look around and everyone was calm so I guessed it was all normal...and you are right the take off is the "funnest" part...makes one realize the awesome power that plane has!
Glad to see some good news about Grandpa!
Deb
Pastor John and Mrs. Currier, it was just lovely to read your experiences and encouragement, thank you very much.
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