random thoughts – Day 1,317 – (Wednesday) – home again

Sky-blue-pink and palm trees.

At 6:00 on Tuesday in Nevada, as I loaded Mon’s and my bags into the rental car, the sky was the soft muted shades of sky-blue-pink against the palm trees. The trip to the airport car rental return was quick and uneventful and the rental car return was easy. After a brief walk to the shuttle pickup, we were on the bus traveling to the terminal at 6:45, enjoying the smooth journey. 

 At the JetBlue check-in kiosks/baggage drop off, a line had formed and we joined it at 6:54. And we stood there. And stood there. So much for that smooth and uneventful journey. My sister, brother-in-law, and two nieces weren’t far behind us from their own rental car drop-off, and soon we were all in the line. The woman behind me in line did some reconnaissance work and reported back to our section of the line that the service area would open at 7:45. 

I was only one of my group checking a bag, and therefore the only one who needed to be in the line thanks to online boarding passes. The rest of the crew moved to the gate area and I remained in line with plenty of time to quietly mull my packing decision for the trip, made in the absence of information shared by the others. It’s a common life theme lately.

The line had grown behind me.

The kiosks opened as promised at 7:45. The line, which had quadrupled in length behind me, finally began to move, and by 8:00 I was walking past the still-growing line on the way to security. TSA Pre-Check had no line and I was through to the other side and on the shuttle to the terminal by 8:10. After standing in line for an hour, the progress was refreshing.

There was time to browse the souvenir shops in the gate area before the plane boarded. Soon we were in the air and fewer than five hours later, back in Boston. With goodbyes and hugs it was a few minutes before arriving at baggage claim where my bag was the only one left on the carousel. Mom and I decided to have a coffee from Dunkin Donuts which was so nuclear hot we couldn’t drink it.

Jiggly Vegas area lights.

The flight was mostly uneventful. I had switched up my carry-on bag and ended up having my jacket in the bag in the overhead, blocked by two passengers to my left who fell asleep immediately upon sitting in their seats. I had my sweatshirt on and a shawl, froze all night, and slept little. There was an attempt at photos of the millions of lights of Vegas from the plane window at take-off, but it was dark and any level of clarity was nearly impossible. I finally gave up on focus and jiggled the phone on purpose. The result felt like the blur of a week we'd just had.

After waiting for the coffee to cool and still burning our mouths, we were soon on the Logan Express shuttle bus in the midst of Boston morning traffic. After collecting my car, Mom and I were traversing routes 93 and 495 during the morning commute.

Back at The BungaLowell, after a couple quiet hours, there was some yelling outside, two police cruisers were parked in the street, and officers were talking to the guy across the street. A third cruiser arrived and between the conversation I could hear and what another neighbor filled me in on later, there has been an especially assertive parking enforcer lurking on the street ready to pounce on any vehicle lacking a resident sticker that so much as pauses to check navigation. It seems the parking dude is also known downtown for provoking people and then calling for police backup after they are wound up.

There’s no place like home. Or something like that. And tomorrow, it's back to work.