hi

Back from Mexico a few days now. The trip was heaven. I am so not meant for cold and dark. When I used to grow all of my garden plants from seed, I'd occasionally end up leaving a flat of tomatoes or poppies or whatever in a dark place for a few days. Once the poor things were returned to the light, they were invariably stretched out and soft and weak and yellowing. Some filtered sun would make them strong again, but they were never quite the same.

I feel like a little pepper plant left too long in the dark. When did winter get to be so miserable? Cold, with winds gusting to 50 mph and dark, dark, dark. There's a reason bears hibernate and I'm feeling like one. As grouchy as a bear, too.

But speaking of gusting winds, we loaded up in Houston about 7:15 Wednesday night, then sat on the runway for 90 minutes. Big thunderstorms were approaching the (ack! ack!) George Bush International Airport from the north, and we were redirected to fly west, thus more fuel for the detour.

At last we were airborn. We didn't crash on takeoff ~ always a fear ~ and seemed to be gaining altitude well. Smooth sailing until . . . until the wings were perpendicular to the ground and the plane swung wildly back the other way and dropped several feet and bucked a few times in a get-this-cowboy-the-fuck-off-my-back kind of bronco bull way. The lights flickered and we bounced around some more and I bit my tongue and then there were lights flashing outside the windows. Lightning?

I don't know. I just know that the first time I quit flying was the result of a trip on a 12 seater Conoco jet (out of fucking Houston again). Flew around, over and under massive thunderstorms for 500 miles. The only thing that saved my sanity was being able to sit with the pilots after we crossed the Red River.

Commercial pilots don't encourage that, but I was thinking of knocking on the cabin door when we rolled again. Rolled. It felt like we were going all the way over. Can commercial jets do tricks? Whatever, it was hideous for a recovering hysterical flier. More drops and jumps and then the back end swung around so we were sort of sideways to the way we'd been going. Lots of loud and unfamiliar noises convinced me the wings were going to come off.

All I could think of after that was that I need to set up a trust or something for the animals. Mo is a sweet cat and anyone would take him, but Bill and Betty, the terriers, are wholly unadoptable and would end up in a shelter or used as bait for fighting dogs.

After that, wouldn't you think the pilot would say something? Anything? Just a "hey folks, mean little cloud there, eh?" or some fucking thing? Not a peep out of these two. Just continued flapping on as if nothing had happened.

So there it is. Nice vacation, big scare, worry about the dogs, too fucking cold, why won't my stepdaughter quit hassling me about NuSkin, I need to get new prescription sunglasses for my old bifocal-needing eyes, little Boo licked a hot spot onto her hip while we were gone, my boyfriend's grumpy too, there's not enough sleep in the world to get me through winter.

And you? How are you? Tell, please.