photo credit: The Old Adalie Plain
Holly jolly ho ho ho!
I can’t believe it’s December, much less a week (nay, 6 days) from when I board JetBlue flight TKTK and head to Florida to celebrate the reason for the season with my Occasionally Working Mother, Soon-to-be-Reemployed Father, Cognitive Neuroscientist Brother, and Self-Employed Sis-in-Law-to-Be.
photo credit: Nick Bastian Tempe, AZ
The word “thankful” tends to stick in my craw a little bit, maybe because I grew up in the South and people used to bandy it about as often as “God bless,” “Bless her heart,” and “Isn’t that sweet!” in tones that meant, frequently, the very opposite of what Mr. Webster originally intended.
It’s the word more than the sentiment, though, that bugs me. Because I really am thankful for stuff. I am! I just don’t post it on Facebook a lot, or tell anyone except my stuffed animals.
Friends and flexible travelers,
You know YUD loves airplanes, and airports, and just about everything to do with air travel. Especially lines. And bureaucracy.
