Ping-Pong

(asters blooming in January, Dallas)

 It’s been a quiet January here on the ridge (I’m hearing Garrison Keillor as I write that). Open days with time. Sometimes I almost feel as if I’ve caught up after working too hard for 35 years.

However, we did take a short trip which was anything but quiet. On the 2nd we flew to Dallas to visit my sister, her husband and some good friends. We were there for four nights and the entire time I felt as if I were playing ping pong.  I will try to explain.

One might think they were arriving on a different planet when landing at DFW.  The vast open space with nothing green in sight, low level dust as far as one can see, miles and miles of runways, five huge terminals, the chaos of trying to find the correct exit. I believe we taxied for 25 minutes to reach our gate after landing. It throws me every time. PING

My sister and brother-in-law are waiting for us and after several attempts to find each other we are in their car chatting up a storm. We haven’t seen each other for over a year and we are happy! PONG

On the drive to their house we pass long traffic jams, unbelievably big warehouses, chain restaurants lining the highway, and numerous accidents, all while being caught up in the rush of 80 mile-per-hour traffic. PING

Finally, after almost 14 hours of traveling, we arrive at Amy and Mike’s house. It is comfortingly familiar. And there’s something new…a big, beautiful hound named Lily. It’s love at first sight for me. PONG

We spend a lot of time in the car over the next few days, looking for backroads to avoid the notorious Dallas traffic. Fast drivers, rude drivers, too many drivers. PING

At my sister’s house we have a lovely dinner for my cousins Mike and Julia Anne. We are the older generation now and somehow that makes our conversation all the more enjoyable (such wisdom!). We visit a number of friends from our old Dallas days and eat at favorite restaurants El Fenix and Kuby’s. And we have a piece of Italian Wedding Cake in memory of my mother at her favorite lunch spot. PONG

From experience I know to include a couple of hours layover at The Philadelphia airport on the way back to Maine…I wasn’t even nervous about the connection . Until the first message arrives about a 30 minute delay. Then an hour, then 2, then there was no way we could make the connection. Have you noticed that airline delays always spiral? That 1st one is just a teaser. We are rebooked twice, both flights are cancelled, and I give up on getting back to Maine that day. PING

We head back to Amy’s for another night and try again to make it home the next day. We do, with 5 minutes to spare at JFK. Around midnight our heads hit the bed at the airport hotel and the next morning we walk into our beautiful little farmhouse. Moxie welcomes us, both complaining about and forgiving us for our absence. It's good to be home. PING