Byrdmouse is a devoted husband and father that says what's on his mind even if no one else agrees with him.

In fact, especially if no one else agrees with him


In the gap of time between my last two posts a lot has gone on. We, my family and I, packed everything we owned and moved 300 miles. We closed on a house between the time our stuff was picked up and dropped off, but it wasn't smooth sailing. It may have seemed it to the dog, but it was rough. Then, after 2 weeks in the new house I had to make a trip for some training. Also seems simple enough. It wasn't. The flights were smooth, but the getting to the flights were rough. Even the getting away from the flights was rough. The training, however, is going smoothly. Of the multiple stories mentioned here, I'm going to share the one about how I got to San Diego. It seemed easy enough. A 1015 flight out of Mobile to Atlanta then on to San Diego arriving in enough time to find the hotel and the classroom I'd be in for the next 2 weeks before the sunset over the Pacific. But that wasn't what happened.

After arriving at the airport about 8 am, because having never flown from Mobile before I had no idea there'd only be one guy in front of me for the security checkpoint, I discovered that I was very early. The security line was just the two of us. But we had been having unseasonable monsoons since Friday evening. Sunday morning was a wet one. The 9 am flight to Atlanta was diverted to Montgomery before it could even arrive to Mobile to be late. By 930 I had gotten a magazine, some M&Ms, and a bottle of water before the call came that my flight was delayed 45 minutes. No surprise since the 9 o'clock flight still hadn't gotten a plane, much less departed. Then, 10 minutes later, my flight was cancelled. I rushed out of the terminal back to the ticket counter and got on a 1600 flight that left Atlanta at 2200. No problems, except that it was 10 in the morning, and I had to re-travel through security, with my unopened bottle of water. I made it, the water didn't.

The weather that canceled my flight continued up north until it delayed my flight into Atlanta. My 4 o'clock flight left promptly about 6:30. By that time my 10 pm flight was delayed to 11 pm and I would get into San Diego about half past midnight local time.

At that puntctual hour of almost 1 am, I discovered that my bag was still on Central time, which meant that after getting my rental car I would need to find a 24 hour store to buy clothes for the next day as I couldn't go in my blue jeans to class.

Guess what else, the rental place closed at midnight. So I had to scramble for a different car company. This is where things turned around a bit. The rental guy had me all hooked up with a vehicle when I mentioned the need to find a clothes store at 2 am. Without asking he canceled my car and gave me one with GPS in it. A convertible 2012 Mustang.

So short story long, I arrived completely worn out in time for my class the next day. It had taken 20 hours to get me from the airport to stopped in the hotel. Had I started praying sooner, it may have been less, but about the time the first flight was canceled I began to pray that if He wanted me in San Diego that I'd make it, otherwise I'd be sleeping in my new bed again. When my bag didn't make it, I laughed out loud. At 1 in the morning it isn't like there were many who could stare or laugh at me. While I prayed that I would make it, I never asked for my bag to make it.


Where'd Who Go?

Stay Frosty