There is something distinctly unnatural about air travel. One minute you are doing your usual thing seeing how many boxes of brussels sprouts stalks and slightly soft apples and pumpkins you can squeeze into the back of the pickup truck for the hogs and the next minute you are in some other time and place with other people, other routines, other everything…
Dad and I popped up to Kelowna to visit family for a few days and arrived back late last night only to experience another round of slight discombobulation.
Of course, it didn’t help that I slept in a room (my lovely nephew’s) that really does look like some other kind of reality…
Perhaps the oddest moment of this trip occurred when I was debating whether or not to put the turkey in my packed bag or carry on suitcase. I had a vision of the interrogation as I tried to get the bird through security screening:
Them: M’am – what’s that in your bag?
Them: Who are you calling a turkey?
Me: You’re arresting me for the use of the word turkey?
Things could have gone terribly wrong in a hurry. And, what if they insisted on a cavity search?
In the end, the bird travelled in steerage and arrived at the other end unscathed. We enjoyed a lovely dinner a day later and soup and sandwiches until it was time to come home.
It was all rather delightful, sleeping in and not worrying about toting bales or mucking paddocks for a few days. Many thanks to K., my delightful and efficient farm-sitter. You are worth your weight in golden eggs!