Home At Last
My flight from Reno was delayed around an hour for various reasons, which meant that I got to see all but the last few seconds of the Super Bowl -- or at least as much as I could peering across from the area near gate B5 at the only TV on the B concourse, inside a packed-out bar. Wow, what an upset!
It was a quiet, uneventful flight, and I was delighted that the middle seat on the Southwest Airlines flight didn't fill, one of only two empty seats on the plane. (My usual tactic of going to the back of the plane worked this time. I reckon that as I have checked luggage, I'm not really in any hurry to get off the plane anyway -- my luggage almost never beats me to baggage claim.)
Of course, I'm now without food, as the milk and the remants of a vat of pea soup I made a few days before leaving for Reno/Tahoe have all gone bad. Restocking tomorrow is called for, although not that much, as current plans call for me to drive to Oregon next weekend. That assumes that Lisa actually goes home, of course.
It was a quiet, uneventful flight, and I was delighted that the middle seat on the Southwest Airlines flight didn't fill, one of only two empty seats on the plane. (My usual tactic of going to the back of the plane worked this time. I reckon that as I have checked luggage, I'm not really in any hurry to get off the plane anyway -- my luggage almost never beats me to baggage claim.)
Of course, I'm now without food, as the milk and the remants of a vat of pea soup I made a few days before leaving for Reno/Tahoe have all gone bad. Restocking tomorrow is called for, although not that much, as current plans call for me to drive to Oregon next weekend. That assumes that Lisa actually goes home, of course.