UMTravels

Ah, the joys of having a late afternoon flight… not having to worry about when you get up. Well, within reason, there is that noon check-out time.

Breakfast for both of us was leftovers from last nights dinner.

By noon we are on our way to the airport — a tad early, but better that than late. No club at the airport so we hung out in the bar for most of the time — nursing a bloody mary (Gnarlene) and a couple of Cuban rum on the rocks (me). Didn’t even find anything in duty free that sparked my interest (and Mexico duty-free isn’t that good a deal — probably better at the Mega!)

So, today’s amusing story starts when we are sitting in 1D (me) and 1F (Gnarlene) as the rest of the passengers are boarding… I look up and say “Mickie?” That would be Mike Leckie, the sculptor in Eugene that did the Bacchus (me) and Pan (Brian). Check out his site at: http://www.mikeleckie.com/. Here is is version of Bacchus, of which there are still copies available of:

I have a set on my coffee table. But I digress — so we chatted for a bit before he had to go back to his seat. Odd that we had both been there for 8 days. Odd that he was on the Seattle flight rather than the San Francisco (then Eugene, Oregon) flight. Oh well, it was good to see him again.

Uneventful flight — it was long enough to get a DigiPlayer (self contained video entertainment device), but not good enough to get anything other than the chicken marsala that we had on the way down.

I was randomly chosen for agriculture scanning — slowed me down by about 2 minutes — her first customer. Here first question? How many times have I been out of the country in the last six months. I looked puzzled and said, “Lots?” Let’s see, Canada times 3, where else. Rest were standard ag questions, going to a farm, been to a farm.

Wonderful was there to pick us up — but I couldn’t interest Gnalene into going to the Thirteen Coins for a late dinner — had to come home and quickly defrost some pre-made chicken cordon-bleu. And then to bed for tomorrow is a meeting morning.

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