Homeward Bound - Just A Sittin' And A Rockin'

It was with a heavy spirit that I roused myself this morning to leave San Diego and get on the plane home to Cleveland.

I breezed through the security lines and was on my way to the gate, blessedly clutching a warm Starbuck's triple grande latte and two magazines when I noticed the coolest thing I've ever seen in an airport.

Across the aisle from the gates were about 10 black rocking chairs. It was gorgeously(sorry to use the term Ms. Buffante) surreal. In the midst of jetliners and laptops and cellphones and flat screen tv's reporting world news, there were these inviting, antiquated rocking chairs. Beautiful.

Scout was off to the doctor's after dropping me off at the airport, and while I was waiting to board, she called reporting that what was supposed to be a meeting turned into a full-blown "procedure", complete with scapels and stitches. So she was taking the day off from work to recuperate, and again, I was overwhelmed with the feeling that I was most definitely not where I was supposed to be...There are few feelings that are worse than knowing that someone you love is suffering and alone, and that there is nothing that you can do to care for them in a practical way.

I hate that.

It seems that the route from Phoenix to Cleveland is not so popular, as I had a whole row to myself, and my laptop got its own seat. About the time we were passing over Illinois, the sun had set, and the ground was covered with snow as far as I could see - it was a view that Santa must enjoy as he travels on Christmas Eve.

I had, in my haste to leave Ohio, left without firm plans as to how I was going to retrieve my vehicle from MyAdoringPublic's house, as she was diligently working ( it was inventory night which I had unknowingly managed to duck the noose). So when I arrived, I was planning to get a towncar to take me there, and while there were several signs posted for "LIMOS", they never really directed you to any location to hire said vehicle.

I became annoyed and walked outside, where immediately a nice fellow leaped from his cab and offered to take me to my car. I knew this was going to be pricey, but I was really ready to just be done with my adventure. Ten minutes later, when we pulled into MAP's driveway, where my faithful Corolla was awaiting me, the meter read: $10.50. That is cheaper than parking, folks.