We had breakfast and checked out of the motel. Then we went over to Mom's and hung out for a while. She kept trying to push food at us, but we weren't hungry. I did my last logon and checked that our friend would pick us up. Finally we took off for the airport.

Returning the rental car was accomplished when we drove into the garage. The attendant had a small computer and typed in the license, then handed us our receipt and we were off to check baggage. I had the additional problem of needing a lot of sanitary supplies in carry-on, but I thought I had it under control, and so I would have were it not for Northwest Airlines.

In Minneapolis I picked up a couple of "mosquito traps" for St. Nick gifts for the kids, and this postcard:

And then it all began to go downhill. Because of strong headwinds, they announced, we would be stopping to refuel in Salt Lake City for about an hour. I'm a phone illiterate, but I attempted to call here, in hopes that Wowbagger would be here and pick up the machine, or he'd listen later. We used Rich's phone card, which was interesting. I remember how easy it used to be with the teen code, four digits that only let you call one number, but nowadays it's terrifying. In the event, we left a phone message in hopes. I considered calling again from the plane, but it's $3 to connect and $3 a minute.

The sky was clear and the moon shining, so we got some good views of the lights and even some of the Rockies. I've always liked Salt Lake City, but that certainly got shaken this time. When they landed, they didn't let us off the plane. Now, remember, this was a beverage-only flight, which also meant a tiny pack of pretzels. So far not too bad, though I was hoping to restock on supplies. THEN they discover something is broken so they can't take off. And they still didn't let us off the plane. The first repair, cannibalized off another plane at the airport, didn't work. Still trapped in our seats in the airplane on the tarmac.

Finally, the second repair worked, the handyman got off to ragged applause from the weary, and we were on our way. I went past abject misery to total despair. (Remember, not only was Ma Nature picking on me, my shoulder and arm were in great pain.) They ran out of tea. An hour later, about 12:45, we landed at Sacramento. I admit, I left a stain on the seat. Serves them right. The terminal was closed up except for a gap in the gate to let us through. Downstairs, we looked around, no Wowbagger, but just then he pulled up outside. I crawled into the van, whimpering, and Rich waited around for the luggage.

We were home about 2 and I have vowed that if ever again I fly (once I'm CERTAIN I'm past menopause!) and it's Northwest, I will walk.