I wasn’t in my right mind when I said I’d post photos every day. I’m exhausted from picking and wrapping presents for an entire city (reservation) of children and catching up with people I see too little of. Here’s a cheap update:
Tiny planes terrify me, especially when the pilot is my age. …
… even moreso when the pilot has to carve through icicles.
I skipped my senior year of high school; I’ve never had a physics class. It’s all magic to me, how this wimpy little propeller can hold a dozen adults in the air.
Only when we landed did I realize I’d slipped on the wrong shoes in my sleepless haste to leave for a 6:30 a.m. flight.
I walked a snowy quarter-mile in my little ballet flats and picked up some winter-appropriate attire from a store near my hotel.
Staying at the Days Inn by myself at Christmastime doesn’t compare to waking up on a flight attendant’s sprawling cattle ranch in the summer.
I hate it as much as she does. I’m used to my dog looking like this:
But if you get water on her, she looks like this:
She doesn’t seem to mind the blowdry, though.
The window looks kinda rustic, doesn’t it? like maybe it’d been snowing these last few days?
It hit the mid-70s here, actually; the beach was crowded.
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