Well, here I am sitting on a United Flight in First Class, seat 1-A but we aren’t going anywhere. They are apparently fixing the plane, rather a good Idea it seems to me. They were pushing off and something appeared amiss. It does not fill lone with a great deal of confidence but everyone has got to go sometime and as someone helpfully said that at least I would go down in class.
So at this point we are up, up and away. What a chore it was getting to the plane but it should comfort all to know that I handed in my VAT for the expensive coat and got money, given to me in Canadian dollars. Canadian dollars are sort of funny looking and seem like plastic. but I am not complaining. The exchange rate between US and Canada money is about 73 cents US to $1.00 Canadian. I am looking at this as a raise. I get my retirement income in US dollars so it is a raise while I am on the Canadian economy. I do not know the percentage because I am very poor at math but someone is sure to figure this out for me. Then I am eligible for a Canadian pension. It won’t be much but every little bit helps. (haha).
At this exact minute the flight attendant showed up with the Bloody Mary cart and guess what I am having, with nuts and believe it or not, celery? I am not known for my vegetable consumption so the celery is a surprise. i have not had a Bloody Mary in ages and ages. It is yum. There are about nine of us in First Class, I appear to be having the most fun but usually I do have more fun than others. Except for yesterday. A wonderful man ‘talked me down’, initially telling me to count to five. I emailed to say I was calmer and he emailed back to say he was not worried, that I appeared better by the end of the telephone call and even said I was logical. He had a lot more confidence in me than I had in myself. This all seems very strange, leaving London for good. It was a huge adventure but it was very difficult being there on my own without any consistent support.
I took a taxi yesterday to my hotel at Heathrow, then wonderful David and Greg brought my luggage and stuff to the hotel. I was supposed to do railway to meet them but knew I was incapable of that much work and concentration. It worked out fine and wonderfully. I bought them dinner and we talked and talked. The content to be revealed later.
Wonderful man had the assistance of June, the proprietor of the B&B in Guildford to talk me down. She was wonderful. More later. Son Craig visited the B&B and with his vast knowledge of Canada suggested that I live in London, Ontario, in order to provide consistency in my life. I get to the Skyline Sheraton, sit down to lunch and am entranced by people speaking normal English. I say: “Where are you from?” The woman answers: “London, Ontario.” Honest.
But here now in First Class having fun. Flight attendant: “Where do you live?” “Actually, I am homeless.” Funny, we do not get many homeless people in First Class.” “This might be a first.” “ I am going to blog that.” I do. Then I say: “Mother, do I have to clean up my plate?” “If you want ice cream, you have to clean up your plate.” “Ha! I want the cheese plate!” I laugh and comment on my raucous laughter. “Yes” said flight attendant. “The man in Row 45 is asking who is laughing.” One woman lives in Dublin. I tell her of my incredible experience there, without the gory details. She is happy for me. I was then happy and magically I think I will be again. I sleep, I think, perchance to dream. Nightie night.
