Airport Blues - or at least Violets - And a Chick for the Countess

Well, made it out of RDU only 30 minutes late, which didn't matter, since we've planned this return with so much slack not even the bushbaby should be able to cornfield speech it out of whack, and got here on time anyway. Here is Boston, the airport at Logan, where this is going out to the web. Seems they plan to fly out of RDU late in any case. Anyway.

Good we had a lot of time to be able to get past the illiterate marble mouthed mumbling woman checking boarding passes before allowing passengers to proceed to the security check outside the gates of our depature terminal for our next leg, to Paris CDG, as she couldn't understand why there were two boarding passes in my possession with the word Boston on them (one was from the flight we arrived on, one for the one we'll depart Logan on) and wanted to know, I discovered after getting her to repeat her mumble some 5 times, "Where you get these?" At the airport I started from of course and added that she only needed to look at the one to Paris, not the one from RDU nor the one to Berlin! "I can't understand why there are two with Boston on them," she mumbled, and I explained that some people change planes here, just pass though, especially in view of the sort of reception she was giving... "Thank you, Sir." This lady works here everyday, I assume, and has never before seen anyone with two boarding passes !!! ???

Anyway. We've made it, eaten burgers, and can calmly wait forever for our Paris flight knowing we have plenty of time there before continuing to Berlin.

And leaving the Countess was not easy, not saying goodbye, only "see you later", hugging her, exchanging I-love-you's, driving off with the Lady-in-Waiting, saying bye to her over hot chocolate at that southern airport, knowing that the next time my Consort and I see the L-i-W will surely be even sadder, approaching a box of ashes instead of a Countess with a Chick.

Cause we gave her an Easter basket with salty pretzels and a Walking Hippy Chick that lays jellybean eggs, tickled her fully, enjoyed seeing her absorbed in something for a few minutes, fully out of her waitingroom mode, watching her proudly demonstrate it for everybody, laughing genuinely and freely, accepting our present, none too silly, just right, and not trying to give it away to the next person who walked through the door.

Perhaps weak, perhaps mottled with platelet-deficiency blotches, perhaps waiting eagerly for each next dose of anti-pain meds, the Countess is still there, waiting, sometimes impatiently, sorrowing, that the farewells are becoming ever more final, but laughing still over a silly plastic chicken.

We love you Countess !!!