Couldn’t think of one.  How lame am I?

Okay, so lets stop the depress-o-meter and get on with the knitting….. and the GRITS!

First, I finished up the things I was working on while I was in NC.

First, your basic Dulaan hat knit with 100% Merino that I spun last year/summer/whatever.

Next, your basic stockinette socks knit with Opal sock yarn in a color whose name I can’t remember (and, as you probably know if you’ve been reading here for any amount of time…. I lost the ball band.  Maybe I should just start stapling them to my forehead.  What think?)

And, here’s the status of FPS. .  I haven’t touched it since I left.  I have finished the third tier.

Well, that photo isn’t going to win any contests, now is it?  Just an FYI, if I have messed this thing up one more time,  don’t tell me.  The world will be a much safer place if I just live in ignorant bliss.  Ask Debi. I’ve threatened to light this bad boy on fire before and I’ve got a healthy supply of matches here at Chez Wannabe.  This puppy can go up in flames in an instant.  Don’t test me on this.

Now for the Atlanta airport saga …. I’ll give you the Cliff notes version

1. Leave Seattle with toddler in tow.  We have 3 carry on’s between us and a stroller that we must gate check.

2. Make it through Seattle security without getting pulled over for my usual "random" checks due to my Norwegian last name that to the uninitiated appears to be muslim.  It’s not, it’s Norwegian.  Doesn’t matter. I spend lots of time in "random" security checks but on this trip we escaped. 

3. AG decides that once she is boarded onto airplane-in-which-we-are-trapped-for-5-hours to practice her various skilz in How to Disobey My Mother and Be Very Loud Doing So.

4. In remarkable act of self restraint, I allowed AG to live to see another day.

5. Staying calm on plane, during travel, etc.  Trying not to think of whether or not I will get to NC in time to say goodbye to Stepfather.

6. Get to Atlanta.  Waiting for stroller.  (Gate checking stroller has one draw back.  You have to wait for a while to get your stroller back.  Such is life.)  Plane arrived in Concourse A.  I need to go to Concourse D.  I have 39 minutes to get there.  No problem.  Atlanta has a handy dandy little train thing.

7.  Stroller takes a long time.  Longer than usual.  I get stroller.  I now have 25 minutes to get to concourse D.

8.  Walk quickly to train.  Start to board.  Am told by Atlanta airport employee that is guarding the train that they are not allowing anyone with strollers on train due to high level of travelers in airport. (!)

9.  Stare at man dumbfounded.

10. Explain need to get to Concourse D asap.  Man, having no sympathy, tells me to walk.

11.  I start walking.  And walking.  And running. And running.  (I did try in Concourse B to get on train again.  Stopped by another Atlanta airport employee.  So, wasn’t a rogue employee… it was a rogue policy.)

12.  With 10 minutes to spare I arrive at concourse D and get to my gate.

13. Walk to ticket agent and ask if this is the flight to Asheville.  Ticket agent doesn’t look up and tells me to get in other line.  I do.

14.  Trying to stay calm!

15. I hear ticket agent on radio state that she is clearing whatever flight to leave and that she doesn’t know where passengers (insert muslim sounding mispronounciation of our last name here) are but "they are out of luck".

16. Speak up that we are those passengers.  Ticket agent screams (I  am not kidding, she screamed) WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?  (I reviewed their airline’s delay with the stroller and their "strollers on a train" policy briefly.)

17. Ticket agent states she is not going to let us on flight to Asheville because we were not in gate area 60 minutes in advance (not 30, but 60).  Explain that they sold us a ticket with only a 39 minute lay over and that they repeat this same 39 minute layover on 3 occasions per day.  Explain to ticket agent that I am trying to get to Asheville prior to Stepfather passing away.  She tells me to get on the plane.

18. Head around the corner to be confronted with a very steep staircase.  I have a stroller, three bags and an uncooperative toddler.  Ask if there is a non-stairs way and the gate agent said "you’ve got 2 minutes to figure it out or you’ll just not be going to Asheville."  Ask for help, she states that if families need help they shouldn’t be traveling (No, I’m not kidding!!!!)

HERE’S THE PART WHERE I NEARLY GOT HAULED TO THE ATLANTA JAIL…..

I gave it a good shot, I tried to  get all of us and our stuff down those stairs.  Keep in mind, my daughter has a history of falling (head first) down stairs so I am trying to CARRY her, three bags and a stroller.  And keep calm.  And not worry about what will happen if I don’t get to Asheville.

And I decided that "calm" just wasn’t working for me.

I put down Anna Grace, pitched the stroller, went around the corner to the gate agent and screamed at the top of my lungs that she was going to help me right now ( insert unladylike outburst here) or I would hate to have every individual in this airport know that she personally was assisting DELTA AIRLINES in keeping me away from the bedside of my dying father and …and …and …and….

a very nice Delta employee jumped up to rescue the gate agent from the obviously psychotic woman with a three year old and carried my stuff to the plane.

And I managed to live a few more days of my life without having a prison record.

And yes…. Delta has received some nice correspondence from me regarding their boneheaded ticket agent including her delightful name and a full description of her less than friendly little mug. 

Our flight home was much less eventful.

End saga.

Finally, some Grits……

First off it occurs to me that folks may want to be in the contest but be, alas, blogless.  Send me your entries and I’ll post them here for  you and you will be a full participating member of Grits and Sticks.  And if you’re a crochet type, those are "sticks" as well therefore, feel free to jump in.

We’ve been eating some grits, I enjoyed mine…..

Anna Grace however had been acting a wee bit odd yesterday.  I thought Grits would be a nice, easy going lunch.  She ate a few bites and then I realized why she was acting a bit odd.  Seems the little one had a good case of the stomach flu.  And lets just say I had a lot of grits to clean up.

And with that little bit of TMI, I think I’ll sign off.  Get those Grits, get those knits (or crochet projects) and start taking some pictures!

Toodles!!!