All I’ll say about our trip home yesterday is that we were due.  Okay, you know that’s not really all I’ll say.  What I mean is that things usually go so smoothly that sooner or later we were bound to run into a day with some hiccups in it.  We went to bed on Friday night under a winter weather advisory.  Late that evening it started to snow and this was what it looked like outside our window when we finally turned in. So pretty.

We figured that if we experienced any delays in our travels it would be due to D.C. weather. Wrong.  We woke up Saturday morning with not much more snow than the previous night and a flight status showing an on time departure.  We dressed, had a quick breakfast, and slogged through the slush with our baggage to the Metro station.  Yuck.  We had previously seen a notice advising customers that the Metro would be doing track work on Saturday and that trains would be single tracking - therefor your trips might take a few minutes longer.  Usually there’s a train along every few minutes, they were estimating twenty minutes between trains that morning.  No biggie, but we figured we’d get an early start just in case - which is why we left the hotel at 9:00.  Our train arrived right on time and we hopped on and settled in for the quick ride to Ronald Reagan International.  Let me mention here that in all of our previous sojourns on the Metro, the doors slide open and allow time for passengers to depart and then new passengers to board.  Plenty of time. Now, I don’t know if they were rushing things due to the single tracking schedule or if our doors malfunctioned but something went wrong.  We glided into the airport stop and the doors opened, two people walked out ahead of me and I as I walked through the door rolling my suitcase behind me, I felt my bag jerk to a stop.  Thinking my wheels had caught on something I looked back to see the back half of my bag and the top half of Mickey’s body jammed in the closing doors.  Mickey was trying to pry the doors open and they weren’t giving an inch.  I gave my bag a mighty tug and the handle came off right in my hands.  That train wasn’t giving up its prey.  I’m assuming that the driver must have had a “door ajar” light or warning because suddenly the doors released and Mickey nearly fell out with his bag.  I was still staring at the handle of my suitcase in my left palm.  I stuffed it in the pocket of my jacket and pulled my bag by the little handle on top.  I was ready to hand it over and let Delta worry about it.  We checked in and were advised that our departure had been backed up by fifteen minutes.  No biggie.  Fifteen minutes would still give us plenty of time to make our connection in Atlanta.  We headed for security where I admit that I take pride in breezing through.  I wear slip on shoes, no jewelry except for my wedding ring, have one carefully packed, lightweight carry-on that my purse fits inside which slides right beneath the aircraft seat - oh yeah, I’ve got it down to a science.  We can get through screening in seconds.  We reached security where I was baffled that they sent my jacket back through the x-ray and studied it.  It was that stinking suitcase handle in my pocket.  I suppose it’s possible that I could try to knock the flight crew in their heads with that handle and demand they turn the plane toward Bermuda, but it’s unlikely.  Again, no biggie.  We arrived at our gate and checked the time.  It was 9:45…our flight left at noon.  Good thing we got an early start.  Oh well, better to have too much time than not enough, right?  I settled in with a book and Mickey with his gadgets.  We also passed the time by chatting and playing word games on Mickey’s phone.  Around 11am we decided to grab a quick snack since we might have to skip lunch due to a tight connection and they sure as heck don’t offer much on flights anymore.  We split a hot pretzel and a Diet Coke and soon started hearing rumblings about our flight starting to board.  Delays tend to creep a bit and this one did, but we were on the plane and in our seats by about 12:30.  Yippee!  That was when the captain announced that due to severe storms in Atlanta (our destination) we were on a ground hold.  So we sat on the ramp in our seats for two hours.  More books, gadgets, and word games.   Mickey called Delta and got us covered on a later flight out of Atlanta as we watched our connection time expire.  Once again, no biggie - all was well and we finally received clearance to take off.  Smooth flight, no complaints, we landed in Georgia with a good forty minutes to make our connection and for once our gates were on the same concourse. Hallelujah!  We checked in at Gate 22 for our new boarding passes and the agent was all smiles.  Big sigh. We’re homeward bound.  Then they posted a delay for our flight.  Just fifteen minutes….but I’ve heard that line before.  We boarded about an hour late, buckled in and waited….and waited…and waited…eventually a Delta employee announced that we were waiting for someone who could actually fly the plane.  Seems we had no crew, but an inbound flight with available pilots on it was due to arrive any minute.  So we waited…and waited…and waited. I don’t know how long we waited but I will say that when pilots finally arrived there was applause from the hundred plus people on the plane.  When I watched the agent prepare to pull the jetway back from the plane I heaved a sigh, we were finally going to head home!  That’s when a late boarding passenger made a dash for the door and fell flat on his face.  I felt his pain.  I’ve taken a digger at the Atlanta airport and had the skinned knees to prove it.  But this guy didn’t get up.  Rut-roh.  Soon there was a page “If we have any medical personnel onboard, please come to the forward cabin…”  Alright, I can’t be angry at an injured person for delaying us further, but come on - walk it off, buddy!  I don’t know what happened, I can only assume the gentleman was taken off the plane though I never saw EMTs or a stretcher or anything.  I hope he’s okay.  He must have left on his own steam, because he didn’t deplane in Nashville.  Our flight was quick but soothing, due to the treat of watching a beautiful sunset from above the clouds.

Once we touched down at good ol’ Berry Field things went smoothly.  Mickey ran for the car while I waited for our bags.  Ours were the first two out so I grabbed them and headed for the curb.

 Mickey showed up minutes later and we loaded up and headed home.  What a great feeling after a long day.  As we pulled out of the airport we phoned in dinner order at Fulin’s and picked it up on our way to Olivia Court.  In no time at all we were home and in our sweats, enjoying Chinese food since that pretzel from D.C. was just a distant memory.  As far as I’m concerned the happy ending makes up for the rocky road home.

 Today was spent restocking the pantry, picking up the dawg, doing a bit of laundry, and cooking up a pot of Grandma’s Stew.  Ahhh, once I was back in my kitchen any tension from yesterday melted away.  Now we’re waiting for both the next episode of Downton Abbey and some thunderstorms that are headed our way. A perfect Sunday evening.  Home sweet home.  There’s no place like it.