Saturday, April 10, 2010

Go, Granny, Go!

Goodbye 84 degree, sunny, Bahamian beaches.  Hello -8 degree Calgary blizzard hazards.

Bliss to drama. 

I realize there is a tendency to over-dramatize my writing.  Still, this written account captures the surreal of my latest adventure.

Travelling with an infant and a 4 year old, dream material if ever there was such, we were the last to leave the plane, laden with backpacks, bags, toys and coats, leaving one arm free for baby and little hands.  First stop:  the public washrooms.  My motto is inflight toilets are to be avoided at all costs.  Did you know babies can be changed anywhere but new Mummies can be particular and were you aware that 4 year olds are terrified of the automatic flush feature?  Accommodations had to be made.

Just as we finished up buisness at the far end of the washroom (timing is everything) the power went out.  Complete and utter darkness.  Each of us instantly got a death grip on a child, then located bags and bundles by the braille method.  When we found our way to the concourse, standby generators had illuminated every third overhead florescent.  Not bad at all.

The baggage carousel managed to spit out our bags just moments before the power went out for good--everywhere.  Now we were in a large, very dark area, surrounded by strangers.

"Watch out for zombies," my daughter warned.  What movies has she been viewing lately?

Our drivers, brave souls that they are, ushered us into vehicles encrusted with snow and ice and we were away.  Howling wind, blowing snow and icy roads made for an adventurous (read: white knuckle) drive home.  The mayhem on the roads had cars and trucks in ditches, entangled at intersections and just plain lost.  Leaving the darkness of the airport for whiteouts on the highways was no improvement.  We drove blind.  Rather, my son drove and I prayed.

The warming sight of a blazing hearth and the delicious aroma of dinner welcomed us home. A good night's rest, a leisurely sleep-in next day, and Grandma Roe was ready to head off again. 

So the tally is:  three weeks, eleven stops. 

 Has spring sprung where you live, or are you still shovelling out of the ubiquitous snow banks?  There is hope--the calander is on our side and with all the talk of global warming, it's sure to warm up sooner than later.

How is it for you?   Are you staying in one place, or bouncing around like me? 
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