Planes, Trains, Automobiles | Automobiles, Planes and Wedges

As I stated, I love a get-a-way. . . . getting there, and back, seems to be half the adventure.

On my most recent weekend get-a-way to see my nephew graduate high school, I flew to DCA - Washington Reagan Airport. Now for those of you who travel into the DC area you know from experience the landing at DCA is usually an abrupt one. The runway is short due to the Potomac River that you are convinced you will skid across as you look out the window upon your decent. On this particular flight the landing was my.worst.ever. A pocket of turbulence intercepted an otherwise smooth decent that had us pop up and to the side right before we were to touch down, THUS, causing the plane to loose even more of the already shortened runway, THEREFORE creating an outburst from both myself and my chair mate. Once we did touch down the abrupt screeching halt the plane needed to preform in order to make the full stop caused me to hug the chair in front of me - full face smack into the chair before the inevitable throwback into my seat. How nice.

I depart then rush to the waiting taxi stand where I have opted to invest in a cab ride rather than taking the metro to King St Station in Alexandria so I may hopefully get there quick enough to get on the express train to Quantico versus the regular train on the VRE.

Now, I spend some time in the Alexandria area . . . .have for years . . . .have even driven myself around with little people in car going to and from various places and am somewhat comfortable in a small vacinity of the area. I can handle Braddock Rd, King St, I know how to get to Old Towne and I certainly know how to find Cheesetique and The Dairy Godmother. I can even get from the airport to TA's house. That being said - getting from the airport to King St Station in Old Towne is not something I have ever done and while I knew the direction to go in, I am not one to direct a cabbie nor am I one to direct a cabbie on a Friday afternoon in the DC area. What I do know is I have 15 minutes to make the train and I wanna make that train.

So, I inform the cabbie dictator I want to go to Old Towne and he points me to a cab. The cabbie is not pleased as he wants a DC fare and I fear he took his frustration out on getting me to my destination. He asks, "Where to?" (that's the best middle eastern accent I can convey) and I inform him King Street Train station (this becomes important) in Alexandria. He proceeds, slowly to our destination. Things are looking vaguely familiar and I recognise the streets as being in Old Towne but I am just not convinced I am getting the best route for my money that I keep seeing ticking away on that damn machine. So I watch and I wait and I look at my watch and I grow concerned. As the familiar area of the metro comes into view he asks me if I want to go to the metro and I inform him yes, (BIG mistake) to the TRAIN. He pulls over, I give him a $20 and I get out of the cab - confused. I am at the Metro but it isn't the little old station I expect to see. I go in, look around and then ask the gentleman in the both where the train is as I need the VRE and he tells me left and left. Well left is out of the building and the other left is around the building and then there is a hill.

I live in South Carolina - not the upstate but the low country meaning below sea level meaning flat. Now I had put on a cute little traveling outfit so I would be properly dressed to meet my relatives and be ready for supper that evening. My new wedges were non-to-thrilled to see this incline. But we walked and then we ran as I, not the wedges, noticed the train was waiting, at the station. How was I going to make the train . . . . . I wasn't. Try as I may, that damn train left without me. So now I was out the extra money for a cab, the time for the next train to come and the extra stops it would take for the train to make. Great. (Note to self for future use . . . metro and train are different terms in DC)

Deep breath . . . . all was fine. I had a take-off and a landing (you want those to equal), I made it to the train that was shortly arriving, my wedges were in tact and I already had a handy ticket that my brother had purchased for me and mailed me so I was already to go. The train arrived - good heavens, could the step be any higher? I step up and pull up my suitcase, geese no one told me of the work out I was going to have. I step into the car and this is pretty nice. I set down my bag in a rack and take a seat where it is in my view and I settle. I settle for 2 stops and I am thinking - how am I on this train and no one ask me for a ticket? I mean this is a breeze - you can ride these things for free. So I sit and I start to watch a video on my ipod and before I know it there is the ticket guy.

Now I've seen my fair share of films, I know how this works, he looks at my ticket and he punches it and I go about my business. He asks for my ticket and I proudly hand it to him (thinking it's about time you show up you slacker) at which time he then informs me (mind you I am at the front of the car with all eyes toward me) that I need to validate the ticket. I am mortified - I did something wrong. I just look at him, is he going to throw me off?? Is the ticket no good? It had to be, it said VRE and 1 way and it looked like the right amount for a 1 way trip. I just kept looking at him with this blank stare to which he said next time validate and walked on. Oh thank god . . . I am not getting kicked off the train. But I have to admit I still have no idea how I was to validate that ticket. (note to self, learn how to validate VRE ticket in case you one day ride again)

I settled, again, into my ipod video when it hit me that I should maybe find out just where I was as far as stops. The train was slowing so I looked out the window and thankfully, thankfully I did because I was at my stop - Quantico Marine Base in Quantico, VA. Phew - I made it, in one piece, yes wedges were still in tact, to meet my brother, get in his 'beele and drive to his house.

I get off the train, another huge effort to do so, and walk over toward the parking lot. Of course my brother would be there. I texted him 4 times and even put on FB - Don't leave me stuck on a marine base!!!! So I walk and I look and I walk some more and I look and where is my brother - not at the train station, no, he's at the liquor store on base. Nice - my fear of being stranded at the train station a short reality while Shawn buys vodka. All I know is I wanted a swig pretty darn badly!

He showed, and me, my suitcase and my wedges took off to his house for what was a lovely occasion and visit.

And then I had to return home . . . . . . . . . . . .

At which time I had to travel by car in DC to a plane that took off late that arrived in Atlanta late causing me to run from Concourse C to A in 6 minutes to catch my flight to Charleston which meant in those damn wedges I ran and then I sweated to sit on less than a 30 minute flight that was not enough time to cool off before I stepped out into 100 degree weather and was barely able to walk to the car because my feet were in so much pain from running. But I made it, another take-off and landing and take-off and landing, I was still even and I was home.

And I am wearing flats from now on . . . . .

Milestones

I love a get-a-away weekend. As much as I enjoy my home and where I live, given an opportunity to drive to someplace close or fly away is something I look forward to.

This weekend I am going to my brother's oldest son's high school graduation. Seems impossible to be doing so. Although not his first child, sadly Shawn and Kim's first child, Darby did not survive birth. I am sure it is moments such as these that brings thoughts of Darby to the forefront of what ifs and that has to be difficult. But even though a horrible loss was suffered by losing Darby, they were still blessed with Patrick Colin.

I can remember when he was born and going to see the little curmudgeon. It was so odd - here my big brother, who was in his late 20's was now not only married, but married with a baby boy!! It was Thanksgiving and poor Kim, we all (meaning my parents and my sister) came to celebrate Colin and Thanksgiving at their current post, Augusta, GA. I can remember holding him for the first time. He was a chunky guy and the hair - he had so much hair. He'd been around for a few weeks so he was somewhat on a schedule and Kim was determined that the baby was not going to run her life. I can remember her vacuuming in his room while he slept . . ."If I want to vacuum, I am going to vacuum - he has to get use to noise". I actually thought that was pretty brilliant but was nervous he would wake - but he didn't. I can remember helping Shawn clean the house so Kim could rest and it made me realize that once a baby came little things like having someone doing the most menial task was a huge help. I took the weekend in and held it very close to my heart . . . you see I was less than 2 months pregnant at the time so I was in awe of the new family that was in front of me.

And now, here we are at Colin's high school graduation. He has grown - not a chunky mass any longer, but a lean, tall, handsome young man. He not only made it through his high school years without incident, he accomplished 2 task few are able to to complete: he is an Eagle Scout and he received a full academic scholarship to El Cid, his father's Alma Mater. Needless to say his parents (and his aunt) are very proud.

So, here we all come again for a weekend, but not for a birth - a different milestone - another first for the family. And in keeping with tradition, bombard Kim and Shawn and their lovely home. I imagine I will take all this in, just as I did 18 years ago, for next year it will be my first born's turn to graduate.

Where has the time gone . . . . .

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

I think this is one of the most powerful words in our language. Think about it, we all want it and yet we often have trouble giving it ESPECIALLY to those who matter to us. We often find it easy to think because I have a relationship with this person I can take out whatever I am feeling on that individual and it is ok - but it's not ok. How do we expect our children to be respectful if they are not respected? Why would you think your colleagues, your family, friends, loved ones would treat you any differently than how they are treated by you?

For Christians the golden rule is Do unto others as you would have them do into you. Isn't that the definition of respect? For Spiritualists the golden rule is karma. For our Eastern neighbors is it not ying/yang? And for all of us is it not peace and harmony we crave to have surround us? And how is this best reached?

I challenge you, but mostly myself, in both your professional lives and personal lives, to remember this word and think if not only the impact it has on others, but the impact it will have on you as well.

I Don't Know . . . . .

I like to stare at my blog. Not that staring at it accomplishes anything. I want to write more, I need to write more - I just don''t. And it's ridiculous because all kinds of things I don't understand swirl around in my brain and I find taking the time to express these thoughts clears them up - instead I let them swirl. So I stare - and now I'm frustrated because my lack of accomplishment. Maybe if I make a list, after all if there is a list I have to cross things off . . . . .

THINGS I WANT TO POST:

1. Buoy . . . I love Buoy.

2. Job #2
3. Xan - he's a piece of work
4. Audrey - she's been taken over by love
5. Mulligan - I need a re-do
6. What to do - project
7. Alone and how wonderful it has been
8. My Daddy
9. Adoption

10. Buoy - love me some Buoy

Stay tuned . . . . .