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I've been counting down the days since September: 163 days........154.........95.......75......
....46......23.....9..8...7...6...5...4..3..2..1..... and today, day zero, on depart-for-St. John-Virgin Islands-Valentines-Day, I'm sitting in my kitchen watching Judd snow-blow 12 inches of snow and freezing drizzle because my flight is cancelled. Sure, everyone else's flights from North Carolina to Canada are cancelled too.... but ours was special. This is our first adult only vacation in 26 years, going with the neighbors, Carol and Omer, to a tropical island, renting a cottage (i.e. NOT camping.)
I've been watching the daily temperature, looking forward to going from -6 to 84 degrees in one day.
I've been rolling our quarters and pennies, $210 dollars worth of coinage!
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Then yesterday afternoon, we got the message of the flight cancellation. Carol and Judd and I spent, literally, hours on hold last evening trying to re-book the cancelled flights/reserved rooms while Omer cooked us consolation-comfort foods. The on-hold music (on three different phones) was the most obnoxious, rinky-tinky din--it's like they wanted us to give up and hang up.
This morning, Judd is STILL blowing and shoveling. I'm keeping him company from the kitchen bistro table, keeping my eye on the Boston weather for tomorrow.
