Quote of the Week.

"We really don't know what we're doing folks, so we're just gonna throw a bunch of things up in the air and hope it lands okay."

That was from an attendant on our final flight home last night. The b.h. and I started laughing out loud, much to the consternation of our fellow passengers.

It did land okay, and after all was said and done we only got home about two hours late. This despite bad weather having canceled another flight, leaving some of those passengers stranded an extra two days. If they were offering free hotel rooms, I think the b.h. and I would gladly have jumped at the offer to stay. Vermont is lovely.

For various reasons we haven't been talking about it out loud much, but the b.h. is looking at culinary school. The New England Culinary Institute is his top choice. His only choice right now, in fact. The class sizes are tiny, the teaching is very hands on, and the focus is on local, organic, and sustainable foods. We love it. Despite having a very short growing season, Vermont farmers are very committed and there is (purportedly) an abundance of local produce to be had year round. When we were there, we had local cheese and veg with virtually every meal. It was fantastic. We ate a ton.

Wednesday night we went to Atlanta to stay with our friends J and B, since we had a very early flight. We went out for pizza and beer in their neighborhood, then stayed up late and talked and caught up. We woke before dawn on Thursday, pounded some much needed coffee, and B drove us to the train station, where we caught the first of two trains to the airport.

We decided to keep our bags rather than checking them. This required quite a bit of finagling with all of our toothpaste, hair care products, deodorant, etc. Apparently now there is even a required size for the ziplock bag you keep that shit in. I of course managed to forget to bag something, having packed after working a very long opening shift at the store on Wednesday. Luckily I had a very understanding TSA employee go through my bag, and he did not throw out my eighteen dollar hair gunk though he had every right to.

Our flight was, as usual, loaded with screaming kids. This happens to me every time I set foot in a plane, and is one reason why I almost never fly. I'm not big on kids on the first place, and being trapped in a tiny space with several of them screaming at once tends to make me want to scoop out my ovaries. Ah well, what are you gonna do, right? I took an antihistamine and promptly passed out. I awoke briefly when we landed and took off in Baltimore, but I totally missed the changeover in passengers. When I woke up during our descent into Burlington, I though my teeth were going to rip out of my head. Another reason I don't particularly enjoy flying: my sinuses are fucked. I know other people feel it when they fly, but I'm pretty sure most people don't feel it like I do. I squirmed and clutched my arm rest, desperately trying to relieve some of the pressure by yawning and swallowing and whatever means I could. Luckily there was some breathtaking scenery to distract me. Vermont is exactly how I pictured it. Green and mountainous, with cows and little white church steeples speckling the landscape.
When we got out of the plane it was about seventy degrees, which at noon in July is more than a Georgia resident ever dares to hope for. We got our rental car without a hitch, and stopped for our first meal at one of those fifties-style roadside railroad car diners that you always see on the food network. We weren't expecting much, but we were both starved so we didn't really care.
To our delight we discovered that the place was owned by a Greek family, and the menu featured several authentic Greek foods that we don't see often and were certainly not expecting. Unfortunately, they were out of all of the vegetarian items, so I watched the b.h. eat a gyro while I ate a grilled cheese sandwich and cold fries. Booooo.