Greetings Friends!

My apologies to the others flying back from San Diego on Sun Country last Friday night.
I tried.
I really, really tried to contain my sneezing, snuffling, drippiness.

I kept my fresh Kleenex in my right sleeve and the used and partially used ones tucked up my left. I got tagged while going through security for it.

“Please remove that paper.”

My first thought was, “Okay, but if I have to sneeze ( and these were big wet sneezes) and I can’t get to my Kleenex fast enough, it’ll be on you.”

Literally.

But of course, you just comply with whatever they ask of you.
I kept thinking, though, that if we were at Ellis Island, I would be quarantined and not allowed to fly back home.
And really, that flight, despite the sneezing, snuffling, drippiness, was the most relaxed I’ve been on a plane in a long, long time. I think it was due to being so tired.

I get anxious when I fly.  Anxiety has been a part of my life since the tenth grade.  And depression joined it in 1985. It’s called agitated depression.

I take meds for it so I can function and so the sun can shine. I wish I didn’t have to deal with it, but I do.

*********************************************************************************************

Did your mom used to rub Vicks on your chest and under your nose when you were little and had a cold?  Yep. Mine did, and then she’d use safety pins to attach a clean, dry washcloth to the underside of my pj top, right over the Vicksed area.

Well, I haven’t used the washcloth idea in a while, but I do steal a red bandana from the hubster’s dresser and tie it around my neck to keep the Vicksed area warm.

Makes me feel a little like Cowboy Bob.

Rootin’ tootin’.

And for this cold, I rubbed Vicks on the bottoms of my feet and then covered them with big fluffy socks. I read about that somewhere.

And here’s the deal, I think it shortened the life of the cold!

So, if you don’t already do this, feel free to try it. What do you have to lose?? Consider it an old wives’ remedy from an old wife!

************

So, we just returned from a quick trip to San Diego, and we had a lovely time despite that fact that the hubster woke up with a sore throat the day we flew there.  He had the sneezing and the drippiness plus he couldn’t hear out of one ear.  It still bothers him!

But the temporary deafness  really did a number on the first day or two of our vacation. He thought he was talking too loudly so was trying to talk softly. I couldn’t hear him and, so, wouldn’t answer him.  And when I suggested something to do, he couldn’t hear me and wasn’t answering me.

We thought we weren’t getting along.

It happens.  What can I say.

Once we figured that out, everything fell into place and we started enjoying ourselves together.

I was already enjoying things on my own;  growing up was like being a single child. Making my own fun for 65 years now!

Anyway, I got a chuckle out of something I thought I had heard from the voice telling people that they could now walk across the walkway at the airport.  What I thought I had heard was ” You may now walk across the walkway. Please walk like a dog.”

Bahahahahah!

Of course you can’t stand there in the middle of the road to try and listen to it again.  So, I just left it as it was. If the San Diego Transit Authority wanted people to walk like a dog, who was I to argue??

The second chuckle came while on the bus to the rental car. We passed a building that I though was labeled “Social Jet  Network.”

Really? Now the jets have FaceBook, Instagram, and SnapChat?

Well, I considered, we are in California.

And it was then that I re-read the sign. It said SoCal.  Not Social, but SoCal for Southern California!!!!

Hahahahaha!

Now I do realize that maybe in California, the jets DO have their own social network, but this was not their building.

Which brings me to other thoughts: specifically the Mile High Club.  How does that work? Those bathrooms are hardly big enough for one person, not to mention two coupling in a robust and romantic way.

There is nothing at all romantic in there.  No candles, no soft music, no mood lighting.  And it’s not like I want to touch anything that I don’t have to anyway. Not everyone can aim as well as women,  and guys, I’m talking about you, especially if there’s any turbulence to speak of. Please, sit down in airplane bathrooms!!!!

And as far as robust goes, you’d have to be banging into walls, toilet, and sink just to get the job done! At which point the flight attendants would hear you and start rapping on the door, asking if you’re all right.

Nope. Although the challenge is alluring, and the membership something to mention in a lull in any conversation,  I think I’ll leave it to the younger, more agile passengers.

*************************************

Time to eat.  The hubster is making shrimp scampi and he won’t have to call me twice to dinner!

Have a Mahvelous Monday and remember that Choose Kind means be kind to yourself, too!

Love,

Janet