It was, in my opinion, a perfectly wonderful afternoon on Hilton Head Island. Steady rain. Heavy dark clouds. A fogged-in, mostly invisible, marsh. The occasional lightning strike.
Toss in a saucy new mystery and 17 pounds of a sleepy, snuggly cat and it just doesn’t get any better.
In my slothfulness and self-indulgence, I had forgotten that our son and daughter-in-law were flying back from a college parent’s weekend. The Mister, on the other hand, had not forgotten. And as is his wont, he was following their plane’s progress back to Savannah on his IPad. He has an app for that, of course.
So, he was doing his thing; I was doing mine. All was well until he uttered that most alarming of all four-letter words: “Oops.”
Well, oops indeed. All that “lovely” weather that I was enjoying was causing major issues for the plane our kids were on. Wonderful went to worried in a hot second.
They had not one, but two, aborted landings. We watched on the screen as the plane went up, down and around in circles more times than we could count. (See tracking of plane above.) If my tummy was in turmoil, I could only imagine what those tummies on the plane were doing.
All was well that ended well, I’m happy to say. The third time was, as it is so often, the charm.
And, I must also say, in spite of all the angst and turmoil on land and in the sky that day, I still love my foul weather. Oopsies notwithstanding, of course.
Image of plane’s path into Savannah and its eventual landing courtesy of FlightAware.com