I’m catching up now from the time I took off for the Thanksgiving holiday. It’s a slog, but I’m getting there.
One of the things I did was update this website, along with various social media sites where I play, with some new pictures. They show the newer, older me. Yikes! That’s okay.
My little sister, Dawn Lane Vornholt (aka Laney Bird), took the pictures while I was visiting her and Rich, her husband, in Georgia over the Thanksgiving holiday. She’s accustomed to taking pictures of beautiful things—mostly birds. I hope her camera survived the shock.
I hadn’t seen little sis in over three years, not counting our Skype conversations, so it was great to catch up. I also got to visit with Rich, a fun guy with a great sense of humor, and even his three daughters (from previous marriage), Hayley, Anna and Piper—good peeps, one and all. Rich and Dawn were exceedingly generous, and I had a great time.
I managed to meet up with my business partner, D.T. Conklin, while I was in Georgia. As fate would have it, he lives a little over an hour from my sister. We hammered out some business, enjoyed some good food and drink, and I met his lovely wife, Kesh. Don’t know what she sees in him, but… no accounting for taste. (Just kidding!)
I used to fly routinely on business and pleasure, jumping on planes dozens of times per year. The past few years, however, flying has been a rarity. Thank God! Man, I hate cattle cars… I mean airports. And I hate being a giant on those itty-bitty planes.
I mean… I must be a giant, since my right shoulder hung out in the aisle even as my left shoulder cozied-up with the person seated to my left. I wish they built planes for giants like me—you know, people who weigh more than 100 pounds. A few people on the plane were twice my size—well, twice my weight—and man, did I feel sorry for the people sitting next to them! No offense, big people, but that can’t be comfortable on a mini-plane. And I must have been on a mini-plane.
It’s also not a fun thing to land in a mini-plane when the wind is gusting to 60 MPH.
If I’m lucky, I won’t have to get on a plane for a while. I figure it will be at east a year, as plans now stand. Maybe by then, they’ll have built planes large enough to seat adults comfortably.
One can dream.
So now it’s back to the grind, to a workload that borders on insane. I swear, I’m busier than a one-winged bee at a honeycomb convention. Oh well, I guess that’s why I get the big bucks. Oh wait! Ahhhh… never mind.
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