For any of my readers who might be in the Southern Ontario region – I suggest you take a few steps back for a couple of weeks. If the Karma Balancing Equation is correct, my house should get struck by a medium-sized meteor soon.
Daughter LadyRyl recently got to go for her first plane trip. The crazy cat lady also breeds Chihuahuas. The daughter has been fostering a female for her, and recently oversaw the delivery of four cute little puppies.
She has had a long-distance friend for almost 18 years – almost since before there was an Internet. She Facebooked photos, and Skyped with the friend, showing off the wee dogs. They’ve often spoken about getting together, but they’re 500 miles apart.
Alug (a look), with Tara, new, much older sister
The friend was entranced by one little male, and decided to add him to her menagerie – then her 7 kids would have 7 pets. Ryl decided that the time had come, and offered to deliver him by hand. The friend lives a 2-hour drive east of Thunder Bay, ON, and offered to pick her up there and house her for five days.
She has blogged about the flight up, and plans to detail her stay. If you haven’t already, you might link over and have a look. She had a wonderful visit, although, halfway through, the new main bridge on the Trans-Canada Highway, between her and the airport, popped a rivet and got a bit bent out of shape. Crews had it at least usable by the time she left.
She paid for her own flight. Cat-lady offered to drive her to and from the Toronto airport. It’s the least she could do. She’d have had to drive down once, and pay to have the dog shipped, whereas, the daughter took the puppy as carry-on luggage.
It’s a two hour flight home, and it’s a two hour drive from the cat-lady’s home. Just as daughter was getting ready to board her plane, cat-lady texted her. The storm that was blowing down from the north had reached her. She got to the highway, and visibility was ZERO.
We got a desperate text. Was our weather still clear?? Could we pick her up at the airport?? Of course! Where and when?
I’ve been past the Toronto Airport, but never actually entered. We got some things ready and took off. Obscured lane markings and a bit of blowing snow made the trip a little longer than the usual one hour. So did the fact that I left the highway one ramp too soon, driving up the airport’s ass-end, across the top, and back down, coming at the entrance from the wrong direction.
Pulling in off the street, I was suddenly on a Disneyworld ride – roads and ramps and bumper cars, oh my. In the dark! In a snowstorm! Where’s the signs? Where’s the parking. If I’m not careful, I’ll drive to Disneyworld, rather than fly there!
I followed a previous suggestion, made by the son. He describes it as Zen driving. Find a car that looks like it knows where you’re going, and follow it. Those two that just cut me off – they look like they’re going to pick someone up. Sure enough, they both pull up a poorly marked ramp, and lead me into a parking garage.
Soon, I’m in a handicap spot, ten feet from an entrance. This opens to an overhead concourse, where we can look down on (in both senses) the chaos at the main entrance. The daughter texted that she was landing, and that her plane would be a D-Gate #111. Her one checked bag would unload at baggage carousel #9.
As we enter, signs say that Gates A – C are waayyy down there. Gate D is right around this corner, an easy hobble for the wife and her two crutches. However, carousel 9 is two football fields away. With no seating on the upper level, we go down the escalator and take seats beside carousel 1.
Another text tells us that daughter’s plane was 10 minutes early, and the plane at ramp #111 is 10 minutes late leaving. They will unload onto the tarmac, and send luggage to carousel 1, since it’s the closest.
Soon, an airport employee delivers daughter and her carry-ons, in a wheelchair. We grab her checked bag and head for the car. All done in just under an hour, we pay the outrageous $10 parking fee, and quickly hit Highway 401.
A bit more snow on the way home, a bit less wind drifting. Traffic moves smoothly. We’re home safely in an hour. Where’s the snotty GPS? Where’s the bumper-to-bumper traffic? Where’s the getting lost and having to stop and ask some rag-head for directions? Where’s something to rant about? Karma’s up to something! I’ll probably get lost going to the supermarket, but, Everything Ended Perfectly! 😀