Made It, More or Less

6:00 AM (EDT): Sitting at the airport, waiting to board for our flight to Portland, Oregon. I had made reservations with TSA, a service provided by Reservations by Clear now available at 6 US airports, and Orlando is one. Which worked well, except our airport shuttle dropped us off at Jet Blue, then we had to walk to Alaska Air to check a bag. Next, we were sent to the Reservations by Clear agent, but we were on the west side of Terminal A and needed to be at the east one, past the center lobby. Fortunately, we had plenty of time. Once my reservation QRC was scanned, again, we walked right up to a TSA agent.

So far, so good. I had been in a slight panic on our way to parking at the Marriott hotel, because I’d missed the I-4 on-ramp. Going surface streets to the next ramp added 5 minutes to the drive. We still had 15 minutes to spare before the 5:30 AM hotel shuttle, but we’d learned last time that they wait for no one. One other blip was no parking spaces at the hotel lot, even though I’d made my reservation months ago. I snuggled in next to a hedge like some others and crossed my fingers no one scrapes my truck.

Back to TSA. Evidently, Grant’s stick got caught in the conveyor belt, because one of our carryons came through, then nothing. Lots of staff looking at both ends of the X-ray machine. After discussions, a young man held his cellphone way in and, I assume, took a picture. That’s what Patten has trained us to do when we need to see something we can’t get our head into. More discussion, then finally, the belt started rolling, and the stick came through, followed by the rest of our stuff.

I had worked like a dog in our yard all week, trying to get the tomato ring and vegetable beds ready to plant when we get back next week. I’d also tackled the weeds in the front beds. Some done, with lots more to do. I set out just-erupting tomatoes, peppers, eggplants and cone flowers, all in little peat pots,

in one bed with a short stand of pig fence around them and the micro-mister set for 10 minutes each morning. Will they dry out, be washed out in predicted afternoon rains, or be eaten by my marsh hares roaming the yard. Or all of the above? 

Now we’ve boarded with our carryons, backpacks, and a plastic bag of food (banana bread I’d made using the fingerling bananas, sandwiches for each of us, and watermelon). I felt like a pack mule. When I turned 65, I gave myself the present of never carrying on a bag again, but since my luggage was lost on the way to Morocco, we were leery of checking our wedding clothes. At the last minute, we needed a second carryon. I quickly ordered one from Amazon. Grant is using the bigger Bagalini backpack I bought for me which means he has to carry my iPad and water bottle since they don’t fit in my smaller one. In retrospect, I should have just used a backpack, but I got fairly frazzled with the packing yesterday. It will all work.

And we sit. Or leave the airplane to roam while we wait for the plane’s mechanical issues to be addressed. Which couldn’t be started until the maintenance crew showed up for work at 7:00. Which turned out to be a crew flown in from Seattle because there was no staff here. Whose car broke down on the way to the airport. Now the pilot has told us what is needed is an oil top-off for which he needs to run the engine about 5 minutes. Once that’s done, and the oil added, we can take off. Since not all the passengers are back from their romp in the airport…

9:30 AM (EDT):  After a chat with an agent, I called from the plane and rebooked our connecting flight from Seattle to Portland to 4:40, arriving at 5:28. I still have hope we can make our original flight, but it is looking dim. I’m not as anxious as my seat mates who hope to get to their cruise today. 

1:20 PM (PDT): Sitting at gate C2E, standby for a flight at 2:25. Lunch (dinner?) at Beecher’s. Mariachi mac’n cheese for me; grilled cheese with Kimchi for Grant: Fremont Summer Pale Ales for both.

2:32 PM (PDT): Yes, last people on the plane, but on. 48 minutes to Portland.