HoundBlog

It’s been a long day.

I got up at 3:45 am and left the house at 5:00 as I had to be at the airport in time for a 7:30 flight to New York.  Showered and started dressing, but couldn’t find the blouse I wanted to wear. Put on my kennel shoes (you know the ones? scruffy, stained, smelly but comfortable shoes I wear to clean the kennels) and went out to the camper to see if I had left it out there, but not there either. Back to the closet to look through it again. Still couldn’t find the blouse, so settled on a different one. Hopped in the car and followed Ken down the driveway.

A couple of miles down the road he calls me and asks how long has my headlight been out. I don’t know — didn’t know it was to be truthful, so he tells me to stop at the Hot Spot and we’ll switch cars so I don’t have to worry about getting stopped for the popeye. When I get out of the car to put my baggage in his I realize I still have the darned kennel shoes on and no change in the luggage. It’s too late to go back home and change shoes, so I just have to figure I’ll make the best of them.

Well, I get to the airport with plenty of time to spare, get all checked in and through security with no problems. They call my flight and I head down the hallway to board the plane. No ramp to the plane — you have to climb down steep narrow steps to the tarmac, then  up an equally narrow, steep set of steps into the plane. It’s a jet but its a TINY jet. When I initially saw my seat assignment, I thought “good! I’ll be near the front of the plane!” The seat assignment was 11C. Guess, what? This plane only had 12 rows of seats, so I was really in the BACK of the plane. Well, still not the end of the world. Everyone got on board, all stowed and seated with seatbelts fastened and books and papers opened on laps. Then the pilot says “our computer read-out says something we don’t like, so we’re going to reboot the computer and see if it corrects itself. Everything is going to go dark and quiet, so don’t be alarmed”. In a couple of minutes, sure enough, everything goes dark and quiet. Then about 5 minutes later, it all comes on again and 10 minutes after that, the pilot is saying “I’m terribly sorry, but you’re all going to have to get off the plane and go back to the ticket counter so we can reorganize your flight out.” So we all tromp down the narrow, steep stairs and up the other set of narrow, steep stairs to return to the ticket counter. Some of those people had already had one flight canceled the night before, so they were not happy at all. I took the back of the line while I called the guy who was meeting me in New York to let him know about the delay.

When I finally get to within 10 people of the ticket counter, one of the agents asks who is connecting and I raised my hand as I was supposed to connect in Philly to go on to New York. He took my ticket and re-routed me through Washington DC and on to LaGuardia ( I was originally going into Central Islip’s airport MacArthur), so I called my little man back and let him know the change in plans. He says no problem, he’ll meet me there and tells me what he’s driving (like I would know it). It doesn’t leave for 4 hours — at 11:33 am. So, I crank up my laptop, log into work and do my reports and answer emails as if I were sitting at my desk. My boss is impressed by my dedication.  Thank goodness for wi-fi in the airport!

When the time comes and this flight is called, it’s back down the steep narrow steps and up steep narrow steps into a twin of the first plane. I wasn’t holding my breath that we would make it out of Greenville in this one either, but we did. I arrived in Washington DC after an hour and a half’s bumpy ride.

I had an hour’s wait there for my connection to New York and despite it’s “express shuttle” designation, this was a REAL plane with comfortable (for a plane) seats and more like I’m used to traveling in. We had a bit of a delay on the tarmac waiting for clearance but still managed to make it into LaGuardia on time.

My guy calls and tells me he’ll be waiting outside in his silver Bonneville with dark glass. I still don’t have the heart to tell him I don’t know a Bonneville from Bonnie and Clyde, but we manage to hook up and then we’re on the way to the Federal Courthouse on Long Island. It’s an hour + drive and he gives me all kinds of history and points things out along the drive. He warns me that the way will be slow because of traffic, but we went at a respectable clip; something he marveled at the entire way.

The Federal Courthouse is a strange looking building. It’s fairly new — about 6 years old — built of white marble that’s now stained and rather dingy. It has this large, 6 story tall silo looking appendage on the front that has absolutely nothing in it. Then you have the rectangular building that houses the offices and courtrooms with these aluminum “balconies” along each one of them. Too insubstantial to stand on, they serve as roost for the pigeons. It doesn’t look much like a courthouse. My guy said he thought it looked like a mental institution and I had to laugh at that.

Of course when I got there I had to wait on the Federal Prosecutor as they wanted to “brief” me, then the actual briefing took an hour and then I had to wait on them to brief two other witnesses who will be testifying tomorrow. It was 9pm before I got to the hotel and checked in. Since the dining room closed at 10 and I didn’t want to eat in the bar, I just dumped my stuff in the room and went back downstairs to get dinner.

Now I’m comfortably ensconced in my pj’s with those smelly shoes off my now itchy feet (I didn’t put any socks on since I intended to only wear the shoes long enough to traipse through the wet grass to the camper and back), but there you have it — a failing memory is one of the perils of getting old.

I have to be in the lobby at 8:00 in the morning to meet the others and head to the courthouse. I’m scheduled to testify first tomorrow and I’m hoping they can then change my flights and get me home sooner than the 11:30pm I’m currently scheduled for.

Let’s hope there are no more canceled flights!

Love to all,

Margaret