Airport Blues

I'm back. Spent three days in Los Vegas with the grandkids and their parents. It was above 100 degrees. We stayed at Mandalay Bay and spent the morning on the beach. At that temp, we were in the water a lot. It was fun, we enjoyed ourselves immensely.

Then we came home. Flying is such a joy. I know this happens to everyone and everyone has a story. I have several, actually. You can't fly multiple times without encountering some kind of airport trauma. I'm not going to go into it all except to say we made it back on time, but that was a fluke. They changed our original flight due to mechanical problems. We wouldn't be able catch our connecting flight. They gave us a voucher for a motel and sent us on a later flight.

The later flight arrived twenty minutes early--about the same time our connecting flight was loading. Yay. But there was no one to operate the airway, so we sat and watched our homeward flight loading.

Finally we were allowed to deplane, and with just a sliver of hope, we made our way to the next gate where our connecting flight sat. We got on. Even got to sit next to each other. It felt so good to get home, one because it was midnight, and two, we didn't have to spend another night in a hotel room. Of course, we're still waiting for our luggage. I think it's still in Denver. Oh, and we won $100.00. We don't gamble but wanted to lose $20 just because we were in Vegas. So all was not lost.

Well, I mock those who carry their luggage on the plane. Having lost my luggage a number of times, I'm beginning to think . . . but I hate carrying crap, so I'll probably always check the bags even with the charge and the overwhelming possibility of luggage misplacement.