Milestones, Markers, and Guideposts

 A credit card company sent me an "anniversary" letter today. I applied for their card to save on my flight when I was moving here 4 years ago. Four years? Already?

Thinking of the stupid credit card anniversary had my mind sliding right into corners I try to avoid at times. I start to think of my life's milestones as mile markers. Let's mark the year this person died or that person. Let's mark the year since this or that. And when I am in a certain kind of mood, these markers that dot my life don't make me feel better.

I moved here a couple of years after my sister died. Another "anniversary" reminder. 

There is a piece of notepaper taped to the inside cover of my Bible. When I put it there about 2014, I started adding dates I was having trouble remembering because of the sarc that was creeping into my body. I had the marriage, birth, and death dates of my parents and grandparents. Birthdays of some of the nieces and nephews. Not too long of a list, really because I was adding things as I could recall them correctly.

2015 was the year when my list began growing. I had to add my sister's death, then a "play" sister, then aunts, uncles, ex-husbands... 

I hate to even look at that list now. I play a pointless and silly game with myself called "If I Don’t Look at It, the List Won’t Grow". I feel so faithless when I play that game.

Today, I caught myself about to play the game again and I stopped by asking God for comfort. When I made the brief prayer, I realized that not all is said and bleak. There are those wonderful points in life called Guideposts.

We saw this SOOO many times!

Guideposts - or what my dad used to call Travel Signs or something like that during the days we drove so much. We drove a lot. Whenever Daddy was given a new assignment, we drove from one Air Base station to another. We drove to visit family in Texas, Louisiana, South Carolina. I remember (very vaguely and with a dreamlike haze) driving through Wisconsin, Utah, and maybe even Florida? 

In those days of our family travels, there were no Google Maps or GPS. Mama was the navigator for Daddy, reading maps and watching for exits and turn-offs and signs that might be hidden behind branches or something. We ate bologna sandwiches from meat kept in a cooler and sometimes were given little sweets that Mama pulled out of her purse and handed around. It was during these years when I fell in love with Honey Buns. The Honey Buns back then were not the pitiful and puny little additive-laced things I sometimes pick up these days from around the store's checkout aisle. The packaged, ready-to-eat Honey Buns of my youth were never as good as what my mom and aunties could bake but they were so danged good. Thick and rich and gooey. The closest thing I can come to the taste now is packaged butter cake treat that Walmart sells.

So we would ride and eat bologna sandwiches and honey buns and get road-schooling. Daddy gave history, geography, and math lessons using scenery, locations, and travel mileage. He would often point out a marker or guidepost and tell us something about a place off to the east, west, south, or north of our location.

Even with my poor short--term and not-much-better long-term memory, I can recall some of the guideposts of that time. And I realize that my life - all our lives, really - are marked like any other journey.

What life sometimes feel like: 
beautiful and scary

I can't go in reverse to any of the markers in my life. I sometimes wish I could. For now, I just think back on them. 

That email from the credit card company bummed me out until I started writing this post. I came here to whine and then all the sad stuff in my head got knocked out by all the good stuff I can recall. There are going to be more markers in my life - good and bad. But isn't that beautiful? Isn't it just life? Even though it makes me sad sometimes, I'm glad for my life. One day, there will be Heaven and I won't even mourn the mortal markings and ditches and tears,

Peace

--Free

P.S.: I'm not the only one missing food from the '70s. I found a recipe here for a honey bun. I am going to have to call my almost 90-year-old auntie to see if she has a For Dummies recipe I can use! I couldn't even find one in my reliable cookbooks - 2 of them fairly ancient!

The top one is a heritage cookbook; the middle one (blue-ish) was given to me by a neighbor born and raised here in Iowa, and the bottom one is my favorite because it has so many dishes from before my mother's time.

The Great Alcan Adventure of '91

Sometimes I do way too much complaining on this blog. Oh, poor me. Grieving me. Sad and single me. In reality, I've had a really good life. I always had a good family - even though there were times I've been embarrassed to claim some members. I've had a lot of great friends - who sometimes seemed more like family. Basically, I've been loved and protected. I think that's why any time life throws me a curveball (I don't even know what an actual curveball is, people) I get all up in my "oh woe is me" feelings.

Tonight (and keep in mind, please, of how I schedule posts all over the calendar!) some of my family was over and we got talking about some of the good times we've had. Not that we always recognized until much later how good those times were.

We talked about the very first time my sister and I moved our mom and the kids to Arizona. Yes, there was a time we lived in Arizona before the time I had my fantastic drunk Mother's Day adventure. That first time, we moved because we thought the weather there would be better for Mom. What a mistake. She was getting older and the long Alaska winters seemed to be wearing harder on her. Since I was the primary breadwinner, it was my say to make that move. Again, I say, what a mistake.

So we sold our house and packed up the kids and made the move. If only it had been as easy as that sounds.

By the way,  I just checked my old posts and cannot believe I never talked about that first drive down the Alcan  (Alaska-Canada)  Highway. That highway is the only way to drive out of Alaska to the Lower 48.

So, let me tell you a little of what I can remember about that drive back in October 1991 (and I had to text and ask my niece what year it was).

The route out of Alaskaland

The adventure started about a month before we left Alaska. The house sold with no problem. We had the closing and move-out dates and I had my last day of work scheduled. Okay. Things seemed great. Until my oldest brother checked out our car and declared it not safe for the drive to Arizona. That car had barely been safe for the drive to the corner but, hey. We had never had great cars. We always had a house (or trailer) though. It was tough having everything when we had kids not covered by an employer's insurance but that is another story for maybe never.

Anyway. We had to hurry and shop for a reliable, used car that would hold us - three adults and 3 kids. Our 2 older girls were teenagers but one of them had a history of terrible car sickness. On such a long drive, we all would end up wanting to put her out on the side of the road at some point so we decided to fly her to Seattle. She would stay with family until we picked her up for the rest of the drive to Arizona.  The twins were just about 6 years old and small enough to squeeze into even a small vehicle. My sister and I would swap out on the driving and sitting in the back passenger seat. Mom would ride shotgun. Oh boy.

My brother managed to find a car that fit our budget but it was old and he was still a little worried. Between him and my other 2 older brothers, it was decided that we'd let the car get us as far as it could then if need be, we'd just fly the rest of the way. Since flying would be expensive, I prayed to God that wouldn't happen. Then when I saw the car my brother had found, I just prayed to God for the money to fly from the get-go. Like I said, my brother hadn't had a lot of time to find a car we could afford but did he have to find one with a manual transmission?

Neither my sister or I had ever learned to drive a stick shift. However, my sister was brave and I still had a brain that worked perfectly. And my sister-in-law was the best person to teach us how to drive this Subaru because my not-patient-at-all oldest brother would have ended up causing too-sensitive me to have a nervous breakdown. By now, we had about 8 days before we'd be heading out on our grand adventure. Yeah.

On the Saturday before my last week at work, the SIL drove my sister and me to a deserted school parking lot. (Quick note that matters to this story: my SIL is part Inupiat Eskimo.) She patiently explained how to use the clutch and the gear shift and told us not to stress. "Just remember to ease off of the clutch. It helps if you just relax." She drove a few laps around the lot to show us how it was done and then turned the driver's seat over to my sister.

Now my sister, "Mike" was always a get-it-done kind of person. She didn't have to like a task but if something needed to be done, she just wanted to get it over with. I've never been as confident. I need coaxing. So I was glad that Mike was going first. I cowered in the back seat while the SIL coached from the front passenger seat. She told Mike to go a couple of laps around the lot, taking it as fast or slow as she felt comfortable.

Listen. Mike apparently decided to just go balls to the wall. She TOOK OFF and we shot forward so fast that my head slammed back and my braided extensions were flying around my face. We took a turn so fast that I slid across the back of the seat. Mike was changing gears and clutching so hard that the car was jerking and lurching like it was having seizures. And the whole time, my sister-in-law was holding her stomach and laughing like we were on the best thrill ride ever. She was laughing so hard she might not have been breathing. At one point - when Mike made a turn that almost had the car on two wheels - my SIL was either praying in Inupiat or speaking in tongues. Mostly though, she was laughing.

I was absolutely terrified. My sister had never driven a stick before and she was careening around the parking lot like we were being chased. My sister-in-law was NOT IN CHARGE because she couldn't stop laughing. I was close to having that nervous breakdown I thought my brother would've caused.

And then suddenly, Mike slammed on the brakes and the engine died. Nothing was wrong with the car (except maybe frightened), she was just done. She had proved she could drive a stick shift.

And that's how Mike was about tough things. We had to deal with a lot of tough things. We were 2 women in charge of a house with an elderly parent and 4 kids. My sister was the person you'd want around in an emergency because she would deliver the baby or fight off the intruders or negotiate the hostage situation without worrying about the danger. Only once the dust had settled, she might admit to having been scared out of her mind. She was super brave in the right situations. And then there is me.

By the time I got into the driver's seat, my sister-in-law was mostly chilled out and under control. Mostly. I was almost sick with nerves. The first time I tried to move the car forward, it died. And the second time. And the third time. It took forever before I got the hang of doing what my sister-in-law coached and just "eased up off the clutch".

Anyway, I finally did get the hang of it. Kind of.  I never got past stalling out the engine anytime I was on the slightest incline but I was determined not to let the car beat me so I even drove us home. The five-minute drive took about half an hour. I learned to hate traffic lights. They all saw me coming and went to red every time. Every single time. Having to stop wasn't the problem but I would stall out when it was time to move again.

My sister was comfortable enough to drive herself to the grocery store that weekend. I rode along and tried to watch how she worked the clutch. She only stalled out once. I needed to get over my anxiety because guess what? I had to get myself to work all the next week. Not to mention the 3000-mile drive that was coming up fast.

Understand that I have never liked driving anyway - except for that short period of time just after I first learned as a teenager. You know, back when I felt immortal. To this day, I don't like to drive and have always said that if I won a lottery, the only luxury I'd go after would be a full-time driver.

I was so freaked out thinking about driving the Subaru to work that I made myself ill. I didn't sleep well on Sunday night and on Monday I woke up with a nervous stomach. I thanked God in heaven that winter was at least several weeks away. I still wished I didn't have to drive that stick shift.

On Monday I put off leaving for work as long as I could. Then I couldn't wait anymore. And guess what? I made it. I humped and bumped that Subura right into my employer's parking lot. I even made it back home okay - although when I kept stalling out at one traffic light, other drivers started losing patience. The nice lady driving directly behind me is probably why I didn't get my butt kicked by someone else that day. Once I got the car going, she followed me home with her flashers on. We did about 20 mph all the way. Other cars were going around us and giving me dirty looks. I want you to remember that part. Just remember that part.

I did eventually get the hang of driving the Subaru without too much trouble. I had no choice because no matter how I worked the budget, it was the car we were stuck with.

Now, I can't remember exact dates we had planned to head out of Anchorage but I know that it was sometime in the last couple of weeks of September. If it hadn't been for our budget, I wouldn't have had to work so long into the fall season. Normally - or at least back then - the first snow wouldn't hit Anchorage until after Halloween. Like I said, I can't recall specific dates but let's just say that we had meant to hit the road on a Sunday. Well. It snowed on Saturday. And I mean it SNOWED.

Yeah.

I have to take a pause for now. If you are interested, come back over here in a day or so and you can read about what happened when we finally did set out towards the border. Good times.

Peace
-Free

PS - Apologies for the crappy errors. I think I've caught and fixed most of them

**REVIEW** Delta Airlines (and Delta Comfort)

I thought that I would use my experiences of this latest flight to review Delta Airlines for both their customer service and their Comfort seating offering.My itinerary was Anchorage (ANC) to Minneapolis/St. Paul (MSP) and to my final destination of Des Moines (DMS). Since this is a blended review, I will preface remarks with CS or DC when speaking about Customer Service or Delta Comfort.

The Anchorage counter staff was okay. Courteous and efficient, they didn't seem to have much to do since most passengers checked in electronically or via one of the consoles set up in the airport. I did (and always do) my check-in via a phone app. At the counter, I only had to hand in my luggage (pre-paid) and show I.D. to confirm my information. I even filled out and attached my own luggage tags.

Ted Stevens Airport (ANC) is pretty basic and I like that. Gates are called just that - "gates" - so that it's easy to locate and navigate where you need to be. With such diversity in the mix, simplicity and uniformity are important when traveling. That;s my opinion anyway. At Ted Stevens, gates and signs and walkways are easy to find and use.

That last point is going to come up later.

The flight crew on the ANC to DSM leg was kind of awesome. They were helpful but not overbearing. I wonder how many people realize that flight attendants are on board primarily to help out in the event of an emergency - not to just to serve and pamper passengers. I sometimes lose sight of that fact myself, but I appreciate an FA who makes the job look easy. There was just that kind of FA on my first flight. She was as nice to the "regular" passengers as she was to those in First Class.

Now. Here is where I have to talk about the worst part of this trip. It had nothing to do with the plane, the seats, or the onboard crew.

I'm not sure who to blame for the fact that when we landed in MSP we had to sit on the taxiway for about 20 minutes, but I'm going to blame the gate agents for not helping more once we docked and some of us had to race to make connecting flights.

This is where my trip went bad.

While taxiing, the pilot mentioned that we were going to dock at Gate F. My connecting flight was going to board at Gate C. I mentally ran through the letters - C, D, E, F - and thought, Eh, shouldn't be that bad.

Right. It shouldn't have been but... I did ask the agents standing on the jetway how far the C gates were. One was just robotically saying to each of us passengers, "We have carts waiting up front." So I assumed he was directing us to keep moving and we'd have some assistance making it to other gates. There are reasons that it's bad to make assumptions and, in this case, one of the reasons is that the gate agent was a liar. There were no carts waiting anywhere. I couldn't even find another gate agent to ask about this. Since it wasn't useful to just stand there being mad, I asked the first person I saw where to find the C gates and took off in that direction.

Here is where I hate the way things are labeled at MSP.  I saw nothing labeled directing passengers to gates. I did see lots of overhead signs indicating "concourse". A B C D Concourse. Because I was feeling stressed and worried about missing my connection, I really resented not having the assurance that C concourse actually meant C gates. Each time I passed someone wearing an airport badge, I asked if I was headed toward the correct gate. Just when my legs were getting stiff, I heard one of those carts coming up behind me. I practically carjacked the driver and demanded that he get me to the C15. If I'd had to keep hoofing it, there is no way I'd have made the boarding. As it was, I raced up to the gate agent and was waved through immediately.

So, yeah, I'm not too happy with that part of the trip.From what I could tell, C gates and F gates are nowhere in the same time zone. It would have been nice that, since our deplaning was delayed, if the Delta gate staff had been more helpful.

To sum up, I find that it is worth it on long trips to upgrade to Dela comfort. I've seen other reviews that opine the extra leg room doesn't make up for the narrow seating but, in my case, it helped. Tall people will definitely want to have the extra inches. Of course, I was lucky to have such lightly booked flights. (Although, it wasn't much of an advantage to have a row to myself when I couldn't raise the armrests!)

There is an older (and better) review done by The Points Guy.

Peace
--Free

Travel Tips From a Novice

Just a quickie post since I'm leaving on Thursday and won't post for a minute.

I'm not a person who travels a lot (and y'all know how I hate flying), but I have done my share. I thought I would pass on a few tips that I've learned over the past several years. (NOTE: Things change so none of this is written in stone.)

• 
• Check here to see what the rules are about what you can and cannot take on your flight!
• If you can, try to get luggage where the 2 main pieces match closely in size. Most airlines give you the same weight allowance for both bags (if you are given the option of 2 bags). This time, I get 50lbs for each of my 2 bags (for which I'm paying a very reasonable fee) and I was able to make the best use of every pound. 
• Make sure to "try on" your luggage and carry-ons before you leave. Make sure you can handle the luggage solo (should you have to) and that you are comfortable with the weight of your carry-on items. Can you hold or wear it all without straining your hands or body? Can you walk quite a way holding it all? Can you easily access your money, tickets, and other essentials? True story: I once found myself at DFW, trying to balance one piece of luggage on another because I  had started out with a travel partner who got sidelined during the return trip. It took forever to find a porter to help me out.
• If you are going for an extended stay somewhere (or if you are going to have a lot of excess luggage), it's cheaper at times to use USPS's Flat Rate boxes and mail things ahead. It's fast, insured (to a point) and you can even request items be held for pick-up.
• Invest in empty bottles and containers from the "dollar" shelf at a store. You can take a lot of essentials (shampoo/conditioner, lotions, etc.) by using the containers and tucking them throughout your luggage. Much easier to tighten up your packing space with smaller containers. 
• To save room in bags, you can tuck some things (like your containers from above) into socks or shoes,
• Never, ever pack your essential medications in checked luggage. You might get stranded at a layover, or your luggage could simply get lost or delayed. I had an aunt visit once and we ended up taking her to the local air base to get an emergency replacement of a daily med that was lost with her checked luggage. Her luggage was located - three days after her flight landed.
• Always keep a bit of cash on hand - but also keep a debit or credit card handy. Some (if not most) airlines don't accept cash for in-flight items.  If you don't have (or want a credit card), get a re-loadable Visa or MasterCard. These are available at most big box stores. (By the way, these cards are great for buying things online or applying for trial versions of services.)
• Unless necessary, don't dress to impress. That was fine when air travel was a major, major luxury. These days, you might get stranded somewhere or have to jog half a mile to a gate. Dress for cleanliness, comfort, and neatness. Comfy footwear is essential! If you do make the mistake of wearing tight shoes on a plane (or train, or long auto ride) do not take them off. Your feet might swell and then you have to get your dawgs back into those already tight shoes. (Trust me on this one.  I had a bad experience thirty years ago that I only was able to laugh at about 5 years ago...)
• Keep baby wipes, talcum powder, and deodorant in your carry on - even if you have to get the teensy-tiny trial/travel sizes. Again, you don't know what kind of delays you might run into. Baby wipes are good for freshening the body or, in some cases, getting small stains or lint off clothing. Talcum powder helps keep your body cool and fresh-smelling. I like to dress in layers when I travel (maybe a cami or t-shirt under my outer top) and I will dash the powder in between the layers to keep me comfy. 

• If you happen to have extremely long (or multiple) layovers, you might want to look into paying for a day pass to an airline club room. I detail my experience with one in this post. Well worth it if you are traveling at a personally stressful time or just want to treat yourself.
• Ladies, keep a bandana or headband or some hair clips in your carry on. You might start out having a good hair day but there's nothing like some unexpected stress to ruin that achievement.
• I also suggest not wearing a full face of makeup. Makeup can be drying. The canned in-flight air is drying. It's better to do a little touch-up just before landing on the last leg of your flight. You might want to dab your face with a wet towel or napkin to keep your skin happy.
• Enjoy the layovers. Don't just people-watch; try interacting with other travelers. Of course, you want to be careful, but how often do you get a chance to spend time around people from so many different places? 
• If you are a loner and want to kill time on layovers (or onboard), you can see if your local library has electronic reading/listening services for mobile devices. Make sure to fully download the books for offline use. (I use the Overdrive app to borrow audiobooks from my local library. After downloading the app, all I needed was my library card to sign in an.) You can use the Overdrive app on PC as well as mobile devices. Check a previous post about the app.
• Use the bathroom at every layover if you can. I don't know about you, but once I get on a plane, I don't like to leave my seat. Depending on your location, you're bumping and squeezing past other passengers coming and going. 
• This last tip is one that I am only half-sure about but it's always worked for me so I wanted to share it: Try to download the app for whichever airline you're traveling with. Whenever I have done this and gotten an electronic boarding pass, I've usually been given the wonderful, delightful gift of TSA Pre-check. I'm not sure if it's because of the electronic pass or the credit card tied to my ID and ticket, but it is lovely. I know that you can apply for and pay a fee to get the luxury of pre-check, but I don't have the budget for that. Only once did my pre-check status get ignored and I didn't mind at all because it was during a high-security alert. So, basically, I'm not sure how I got picked for the pre-check so I can't swear how it works. I'll see tomorrow when I do my check-in via the phone app.

For some of you, these tips are ho-hum but, for a lot of people, travel is not an everyday thing. I hope that these tips help make your next flight easier.

Keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I get ready to head out and into a new chapter of my life.

Peace

--Free