The last day there, I piled into the car with my three older sisters and headed to Culpeper to meet another sister and one of my brothers. Culpeper is a cute town and pretty much just outside the DC area weirdness. It is, however, a far exurb. My brother in law would drive from there to Manassas and take the rail in to DC to work. I’m sure there are others.
We used to stop here and eat lunch after hunting or shooting at a friend’s Dad’s land. This is a town that I’d use to argue that Walmart doesn’t ruin small towns. They had a run down town center. Walmart came there, building a store next to the farmers Co-op. Next to it is a Tractor Supply. They all appear to be doing well, still. It wasn’t long before the downtown area sprouted restaurants and stores:
The place was hopping.
The next day, I got up at 0-dark-thirty. Actually, I woke up before the alarm and got ready. My sister got me to Reagan National by 6:30 to catch my flight. For whatever reason, I connected through NYC LaGuardia. I think it was the best of the worst options for points.
It didn’t take long for me to have words with AA staff. Let’s just say in 40 years of flying in and out of this airport I’ve never seen crew barge in front of the line for the scanner. Usually there’s another line, or they at least ask. Nope. This chick just butted right in. So did her friend. That one puts and empty tray on the belt. I moved it to shove my stuff in. “SIR! THAT’S TO SHOW THE END OF THE CREW BAGS!” Like I should know.
Whatever.
The terminals here really suck. There’s little in the way of concessions. There was a Starbucks, a sandwich place, and a Taco place. That’s it. A quick look on the map showed I was flat out of luck. I got a breakfast burrito and headed to the gate. I checked back after an hour and there was an even bigger line at Starbucks. Fine and dandy. They don’t need my money today. I have a water bottle.
As I sat there typing, I remembered that the area “under construction” next to where I was sitting looked exactly the same years ago when I last flew out of there. We’re talking more than five years here. Much as I’d like to complain more, my flight boarded without drama. It landed early. I had an expensive hamburger in a restaurant, then boarded my flight home without incidents or drama. Matter of fact, the middle seat next to me was empty, a rare treat. Got up, waddled off the plane. I made a pitstop on the way to baggage claim. When I got there, my bag was on the carousel. This is the DFW I remember.
What made the trip back funnier, was that my older sister gave me a plant to bring home:
Those tiny sprouts are grapefruit trees.
The back story here is that way back, long before I was born, my dad took a few seeds from a grapefruit he was eating and planted them. One, at least, sprouted and grew to a small tree. He had it in a pot that we’d put out on the patio in the spring. It would live in the living room during winter. When he died, it was 6-7 feet tall. Same pot, all those years. When my oldest sister moved in, she repotted it to a bigger pot. She’s done that a few times now. It’s pretty tall, with a decent size trunk. This year, it sprouted and grew fruit.
So she took the seeds, planted them, and gave everyone a plant. Pretty cool. My pot actually had two planted close together. It got pretty battered on the plane. So I separated and repotted them. They appear happy. They’ll be happy here in the warm environment.
It was a lot of fun seeing my sisters and brother. I hadn’t seen a few of them since before the divorce. I really didn’t need those scars picked at, but they were curious. Who wouldn’t be. It’s not a thing in my family. Only one sister is divorced. The other six are either never married, widowed, or still married. I can’t think of any cousins that have either.
Whatever.
I got back and the dogs were thrilled to see me. It’s been three weekends in a row that I’ve been gone. I’m beat, to be honest. I have no plans to go anywhere, anytime soon.
Inspected By Pat 