RheumaBlog

Same dragon, different day.

flying_c5Yep, once again I’m about to board a jet plane and zoom away for a while.

It’s funny, but for almost 15 years I managed to do all my traveling on the ground. I was in a car or on foot, period. Then in 2007 I flew to Washington, D.C. In 2008 I flew to New Mexico. And this year — tomorrow morning, in fact — I’m flying to Tulsa, Oklahoma. Haven’t been there since 1980.

A long time ago.

The occasion is my husband’s gigantic family reunion. It’s going to take place this coming Saturday and Sunday at a local park; there will be pickanicks, barbeques, frisbee games, a few scratch softball games and who knows what all else. Three-legged races for the kiddies?

Certainly, there will be a lot of meetings and greetings, coversations and laughter. I’ve met most members of Mr. Wren’s immediate family, of course, but I’m given to understand there will be many more people there bearing his Americanised, Dutch patrinomic name. People he hasn’t seen since he was a child; others he hasn’t seen since they were children.

Should be a hoot.

So, send courage through the ether at me one more time. I’m a huge coward when it comes to flying. I hate it. I spend the entire flight in a state of clenched-jawed non-movement, as if my moving will somehow cause the aircraft to fall out of the sky. It’s an old, old phobia, this one, connected directly to an irrational childhood fear of heights.

I’ll get through it, just as I have before. This time, I’ll be on the ground just long enough for my stomach to settle down, and then we’re flying back. On Monday. Early, early in the morning.

I’m taking my camera. We’re also visiting a place called “Woolaroc” on Friday, which I hear is rather wonderful. I’ll shoot some photos and, if they turn out OK, I’ll share them here.

Bye, gang. Back next week as long as the airliner doesn’t lose a wing or something. In which case, well, it’s been fun …

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