Well stated.
3. OutColor
AIRPLANE:
1. I love flying on an airplane. The flight attendants are old. I always thought they were young and pretty but I haven't seen one of those. They all look around 40-60 years old and tired. That surprised me.
2. Food in the airport is pretty good. Good coffee and good variety. I had some taco thing with great re-fried beans..not those mushy dog food like kind.
3. Nobody checked Jacob's I.D. either coming or going. But they patted my body down once on the way home and scanned my water bottle for "vapors" and emptied my backpack to look around it. I was fine with it all. Neither was an intrusion or anything that offended me. In fact, I like the diligence. Go for it.
FORGETTING THINGS:
I didn't forget one thing. Of course, as I said before, I pack like Monk. My suitcase weighed 44 pounds on the way home. I checked it, of course. I loved the fact that I didn't have to lug it around the airport or try and squeeze it into some overhead compartment because I had packed lighter so I wouldn't have to pay the $25. For me, it was worth it.
TUCSON AIRPORT:
Wow! Great signs everywhere. It was so easy to navigate thru. You'd have to be brain dead not to figure out how to get anywhere.
Great electronic charging station counters. I loved them and received wonderful WiFi reception.
JACOB...My TRAVELING COMPANION:
What can I say. He's the best person I've ever traveled with.
OUR TARANTULA CONFERENCE:
That's for another blog but it was unusual, interesting, informative and a well planned event. I got a kick out of it.
THE ONLY GOOD THING ABOUT HAVING TO GO HOME:
1'm going to get to install Lion on my computer.
TUCSON, ARIZONA:
Beautiful...absolutely breathtaking beautiful. If I couldn't live on water...which I do...I would want to live by mountains. They do what water does...change with the clouds in the sky and where your body is viewing them and every view is a good one. There is no bad view of a mountain or no bad view of a body of water.
She had 1,000 (yes, that's not a typo) tarantulas when her oldest son got meningitis at 18 years old and died in 1998.
Since it was a shared hobby with her boys she couldn't even go into her tarantula room any more and they started dying. She lost over half of them before her youngest son helped pull her out of her well of despair and they could start caring for them again.
This was the 13th annual Tarantula Society Conference and the first one she was able to come to even though she was the original founder of the idea and others had to take over when her heart breaking tragedy occurred.
She's on the other side of the pain...as they say....but her story stabbed my heart.
You sure can't just look at a person and see what scars they may be carrying inside.
That's how you identify a tarantula hole from a hole that is not as much fun to explore. You look for the soft webbing across the hole. It's a very subtle thing and hard to spot...at least for me....not so much for Jacob.
Then you insert a tiny soft stick inside and "tickle" it out. It thinks it food and is intrigued and either comes out fast and quick or more tenuous and slowly. You never know.
You can also pour a little water into the hole and that encourages them to come out.
Jacob will sometimes start digging to discover the tunnel of the burrow if he thinks it went way down into it's hole. He gets in that hunter mode.
Now wasn't that interesting?