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Tuesday, August 05, 2003

Adventures

Well, last night we were eagerly anticipating the arrival of our exchange student, Inga. I checked on the last leg of her long flight from Moldova, and found that her plane from Cincinnati had been canceled due to weather. Fortunately, she was on the next Delta flight to Minneapolis, and arrived safely, 2 hours later than originally scheduled.

My husband and kids decided to use the extra time to play a board game. I, meanwhile, was madly dashing around, doing last minute cleaning, etc., and saying, let's go, let's go. My husband's philosophy is it's really time to get moving when I'm in the car. Until I'm out the door, there really is no crisis (or hurry). I guess I can't blame him--he's spent too many Sunday mornings waiting while I search for my purse, struggle with my pantyhose, or encourage children to move it.

Anyway, last night, my husband dropped me off at the ticketing terminal while he and the kids went to park. I decided to see if I could meet Inga at the gate since she was an unaccompanied minor (17) traveling from so far away. Nobody was at the counter. So I picked up a Delta courtesy phone, and they said, try the baggage claim area. I arrived, no line, gave my sad story, and after checking on Inga's name and viewing my driver's license, I was issued the sacred pass to wait in the security line.

I had visions of being strip searched, setting off alarms, and missing Inga entirely. I checked my watch. Inga's plane should be at the gate right now, and the security line said estimated waiting time, 15 minutes. I got out my ID to show with my pass. So far, so good. I watched a young woman take off her belt ahead of me in anticipation of alarms. I saw another woman holding her arms out at her side as a wand was waved over her for whatever set the beeper off. I saw people questioned about laptops. My main concern was that I would have to dump my purse which contained personal, uh, feminine items. Several.

Anyhow, I sailed through the security line. I even fielded a cell phone call from my husband during my wait--he assured me that Inga's flight had not yet pulled in to the gate. Not convinced, after I gathered my purse, cell phone, and the welcome sign we had made that somehow survived the scanner, I raced down the terminal. It was rather eerie. I hadn't been down a terminal since before 9/11/01, and it was like a ghost town. No one was coming off flights yet, so I assumed that was a good sign. But there were not the usual throngs (in pre-9/11 days) of people going to meet loved ones (or associates.) So, I got to Inga's gate--no sign of anyone--no one was at the check in place either--no sign with the arrival time of her flight--I suppose, because who would be there to read it? I waited around, and then saw people starting to get off the plane. I held my sign proudly, realizing later that my daughter had colored the letters in the color of the Moldovan flag, so the yellow letters were not visible from a distance. Somehow, she realized that W LC ME I GA! meant her.

She was exhausted, after 48 hours of no sleep, long plane trips and delays. But she was in good spirits. We snuck up on my husband and kids as they waited at baggage claim (they were looking for us at another entrance). After waiting and waiting, her one bag finally descended from the carousel, and we were on our way. My husand decided to take a more scenic route home (a lovely view of the skyline)--but unfortunately, we hit a pothole and got a flat tire. So, we were fortunate in that we had a wide shoulder to pull over to, and Tim, (my husband), Luke (our 18-year-old) and I got out to change the tire. Our 13-year-old daughter Christina and Inga chatted happily in the back seat, enjoying the view, as we worked. Within 30 minutes we were back on the road.

This morning, bless his heart, Tim got the van up to Tires Plus, and I met him up there so he could make an 8:30 am meeting. So, I write this at 9:30 am and I already have my van back with my new tire and ready to face another day of adventures (Inga needs to get vaccinations). Cudos and kisses to Tim for getting me back on the road!

Till next time--
Suzi

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