Fly the Friendly Skies

I spent many Saturdays of my childhood in the tiny local airport in my hometown, waiting for my dad to finish giving flight lessons. I'd have at least four library books to kill the time and sat on uncomfortable orange chairs in the terminal for hours talking to an imaginary class of girls who hung on my every word. This was not the best training for real teaching, I have to say. I look just like my dad did in many ways so everyone knew who I was even if they didn't. Daddy loved people and talked to everyone, not my policy by a long shot. I spent almost all my time in the world of books, looking up from time to time to watch a plane take off or land.

My dad died while doing a short test flight from this very airport, a place I didn't see very much after I left home. But I can recall every detail about it from those long afternoons. My joy was never so great as when he was done and bought me a candy bar from the vending machine. I can only imagine how exhausted he was after working long hours all week and having to work all day Saturday as well. But he never complained and never showed any weakness. He loved to fly and teaching people after they got out of ground school. But he knew I wasn't cut out for such training -- I could barely find my way back to the truck in an almost empty parking lot. I'm one of those people destined to stay on the ground which is okay. But whenever I see a plane, I think about all the hours it took someone to learn how to fly it to be able to transport people to different worlds the way my books did in those long-ago days.

Michelle's Spell of the Day
“Facts sometimes have a strange and bizarre power that makes their inherent truth seem unbelievable.” Werner Herzog

Cocktail Hour
Drinking skincare suggestion: Bliss Oxygen Mask (works fast and like a voodoo charm!)

Benedictions and Maledictions
Happy Wednesday! Still getting around to answering e-mail and working on getting stronger. Hope everyone is having a great week!