Do you like to fly? Not me.

I know, I know ... it's been a couple of days and I went away.  But, wow!  I've had a lot of writing to do this week.  And a lot of reading and a lot of studying and a lot of ... well, you get the idea.  Thursdays are generally a fairly easy day for me.  Uh huh ... not this week. 

I really thought that I would have time to sit and think about a blog post today and wow you with some incredible bit of ... well, I'm tired and I can't even come up with a word to end that sentence.  Sigh.  Yah ... it's been that kind of a week.

Last week I told you that my friend up here helped get rid of our old, red van.  Yesterday he came in with his skid loader and pulled a bunch of felled trees in our meadow to the middle where we have a burn site.  What a great guy!  He and his wife run the local airport (he's a pilot and teaches flying at the local community college as well).  I'll head up there tomorrow with a loaf of bread and a thank you card.  They take really good care of me when I'm here at the cabin and I truly enjoy them.  He hasn't pushed me to go up in an airplane yet.  I'm pretty sure I've made it clear that it terrifies me and makes me sick to my stomach.  Maybe one of these days I'll go in and take the ground coursework so that I can understand more about planes and how things work.  That might help rid myself of some of the terror.  I hate flying.

Here's a story for you.  About twenty years ago I was flying back to Omaha from San Francisco.  Probably the San Francisco - Denver leg.  I was towards the back of the plane in the middle seat (joy) and an odd woman sat down in the aisle seat.  Not one to be rude, I said hello and opened myself up to conversation with her.  She was having none of that.  She wouldn't talk to me, wouldn't look at me, in fact ... she pulled her magazine practically up to her face so that she could avoid all contact.  When the steward came around offering drinks, she grabbed (yes - reached out and grabbed) the glass of water and with her eyes darting around, proceeded to pour something into it.  I could have sworn it was charcoal.  Sigh. She stirred it until it was a sludgy mess, drank it down, then grabbed the vomit bag in front of her seat.  Nope, didn't take long.  She didn't bother to get up and go to the bathroom, just vomited right there beside me.  I asked if she was ok.  Not a word, she just glared at me.  I don't remember what she did with the bag, but I know that I just wanted to huddle underneath the seats - I think I was afraid the witch would bespell me or something!

I've never been one of those people that had entertaining company on flights.  Yah ... it's not a great joy for me.  I'll just drive to where I need to go.  Much more fun!

What is your strangest flying experience?