Tuesday, August 9, 2011

I Really HATE Transatlantic Flights

We're home yet again.  This morning our flight landed at Heathrow from Texas and we were back in the 'burbs of London around 8:00 am.  We had a good time on our visit, but it's wonderful to be a family of four once more.  I told my husband to make sure he ran off the strippers before we arrived.  As usual, they left without sprucing up the place by swiping a dustrag across furniture surfaces or running a couple loads of dirty clothes.  I'd give the ladies a serious tip if they would get the limescale off the shower door... the big bucks rather than just a single or two in their thongs.

I have blogging to do for our Paris trip and Mediterranean cruise plus the visit to Texas, but I probably won't get around to that until the girls return to school.  Between now and the start of classes on Aug. 24, we've got a lot of last minute things to tick off the master to-do list.  

One of the first things on my to-do list today was emailing the property management folks here in England to take care of the little flying demons (aka wasps) that have taken up residence in one of the second story vents at the rear of the house.  This is just an invitation for them to fly in and sting us, which happened about an hour after we arrived.  At least I was the victim of the sting since the girls, in their sleep deprived states, would have gone all big-eyed crazy if it had been one of them.  Welcome home!

And then there's my right hip, acting all stupid by aching so that no position is comfortable other than sitting upright in a chair.  My mother, the worry wart, figures it's deep vein thrombosis.  DVT is high falootin' verbiage for a blood clot.  The trick is that DVT usually appears in the lower leg/calf area rather than hip, often caused by long flights.  But let's look on the bright side.  Maybe I just wrenched the hip wrestling some of the six suitcases into the minivan in Texas, out at the airport departure drop off, onto the platform to be weighed by the oh-so-surly ladies at the airline baggage drop counter, off the luggage carousel here in London, onto the luggage cart to meet the car service or into the house once we arrived home.  That's a lot of wrestling.  Or maybe my hip is just irritated from sitting on an airplane for almost 11 of the past 24 hours.  Just what you want to develop in your 40s, a bit of rheumatism or bursitis.  Maybe I can throw in a bit of goiter or gout just for fun.

Tomorrow I'm finishing up the stack of annoying paperwork for the new school so I can make a trip over there Thursday to turn it in just under the Friday deadline to avoid a slap on the wrist.  Plus there are the annoying emails I've been receiving the past couple weeks warning me of the dire consequences I'll face if (GASP!) the zillion forms documenting important info like their date of birth and our address aren't presented posthaste.  

Now I need to go do something really productive like empty out one of the suitcases or wash a load of towels since these good-for-nothing British strippers don't know how to clean up after themselves.  All on my gimp hip.

No comments:

Post a Comment