So here I am 'home alone' in my mother's apartment, while she lies not far from here in a nursing home hospital bed. Until last night my sister and I were here together which made it feel more ''strange" somehow.
The flights to Hartford were pretty much inconsequential, though there was a small detail that passed over me lightly at the time and made my eyes fly open as I was about to fall asleep! I flew to Bradley Field from Newark in a Bombardier Q200. Approaching the little aircraft I thought it probably among the smallest I've flown. The flight steward was charming and extremely amusing. In fact I wished by the end of the flight that he had been on the Atlantic flight where there never was a more po-faced bunch of stewards to be found! He warned us before take-off that there we were likely to have some severe turbulance on the way to Hartford and pointed out that sick bags were readily available! Then he went through the safety drill -- pausing now and again as he waited for his passengers to 'fill in the blanks'! And we were all eager to oblige. He was a charmer all right!
The little plane took off right on time and we certainly did bump our way out of New York/New Jersey air space. I never came close to needing it, but I did look in the seat pocket to ensure the sick bag was securely in its place in front of me ... Ten minutes later and all was calm -- maybe the occasional 'bump', but nothing untoward. Forty-two minutes later and touchdown, Hartford-Springfield, Bradley Field.
And so to the rather disconcerting incident that popped my eyes open later that night. It's one of those things that can happen and you can't believe your ears and besides you just want to get off the plane and get your bags and be off -- but it's a definite 'WTF' moment: Just as the hatch opened and the stairs fell into place, the pilots door was released -- just in time to hear him say: "Whewww!! We made it!!!!"
As I said, WTF?