I started the day at the airport by dashing from working at the farmers market to the airport. At the farmers market, my table was right next to Rob, "the Tri-Tip Guy" so in addition to being taunted the entire market, I now smelled like a slow roasted cacophony of trip-tip, pork loin and pork ribs. When Rob offered to wrap me up a half rack of ribs- how could I refuse?
So, there I was in the Arcata airport, eating ribs and drinking water from a mason jar while waiting for my flight. It was pretty country, but so tasty. I could see the envy in the eyes of all who turned around to see why the terminal suddenly smelled of smoked meats.
The flight to San Francisco was smooth, and I spent my 3 hour layover talking to a Marine Captain from Ponchatoula, LA about froggin', spearing catfish, John Travolta, realistic combat practice zones and organic farming. He showed me pictures of some bullfrogs and catfish on his iPhone...
Unfortunately, during my layover at George Bush Intercontinental Airport in Houston, TX- I ran into a bit of trouble. First of all, that airport is terribly designed and the employees working the Continental Express station in terminal A (yes Sherrie and Dee I am talking about you!) were awful. I don't even feel bad saying it because they were just straight up MEAN to every passenger. I am all for people not taking their jobs too seriously, but a straight up lack of caring just gets my goat.
I digress... other adventures at the George Bush airport included me getting my mason jar confiscated, continually harassing any Delta employee I could find because my flight info wasn't listed on the departure board, and lots of aimless wandering.
Now I am surely almost to Iowa, where I will enjoy the rehearsal dinner and farm party to follow, try not to break both my ankles wearing my pretty shoes tomorrow and welcome new wonderful people into our family. I also heard a rumor that the lightning bugs were out, so life is looking pretty darn good from here.
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