Gutentag

I’m getting too old for this. 

…so I muttered to myself like an old person. 

Over the past decade-ish- I’ve taken at least a half dozen C-17 flights: 

Buckled into a jump seat, frozen solid, deaf from the engine droning.  

(And you should see the port-o-potty)

I am just past my prime for such adventures. 

At least that was my thought as as we descended into Ramstein last week, frozen solid. 

Fortunately, my kids are good sports: 

We had missed three standby flights in other states. 

We had already driven from Charleston all over the NE to find a space available flight to Germany. 

Failing. Three. Times. 

BWI > Dover AFB  > Andrews AFB. 

*Granted. In between, we did get to see some of our favorites. 

My lovely friend Karina (with the most enviable humor AND hair) hosted our party of five and my incredibly generous cousin Joey graciously welcomed my (not small) family for the night with 90 minutes notice.  Ninety. Minutes. He’s a saint.*

 

Finally, at midnight, we departed for Deutschland. 

From Andrews. 

For the summer. 

In a cargo plane. 

Deep breath. 

It’s a good thing I take all the supplements. And Jesus. 

Where would we be?

I’ll tell you.

I nearly buried one child in a swamp in SC when they confessed they forgot their military id. 

I nearly abandoned one child in a NC cornfield when they begged to rescue a stray dog along route 95. 

And I nearly lost all four kids to a parolee in a pizza parlor in VA who generously offered to buy everyone gum balls from a filthy gum ball machine that was clearly also dispensing Covid. 

#makingmemories. #allthemoments

But we made it. 

All five of us. 

And now the adventures begins continues. 

I don’t TikTok (nice try, China) and I have too many words for Twitter. 

So. Follow along on the most antiquated social media platform ever (this blog).