Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

We got in to the Portland Airport last night around 10PM. On the plane Andrew and I were passing time doing competitive crosswording. I use the term competitive loosely. That is, I am as competitive to Andrew in doing crosswords as he is to me in Bananagrams.

(Andrew’s sulky, I hate losing, face.)

I was having trouble with the Friday puzzle, as I am wont to do with any puzzle after Wednesday. So, I asked Andrew to help me with some hints to jigger my brain – he’d already finished Friday and was on Saturday.

He looked at one of the clues that I was struggling with: Runaway. He looked at me and in super-slow-mo said “Runaway”. Apparently, Andrew thinks that when I say I need a hint in crosswords what I mean is that I can’t read the clues myself.

I finally finished the puzzle and moved on to helping him with Saturday’s puzzle. I use the term helping loosely. That is, I mostly look over Andrew’s shoulder and answer the clues about song lyrics, if any exist.

We got to the economy parking area and only had to wander two aisles before finding the car. We noticed we had to get some gas and went to a gas station on the way home (in Washington – where we are allowed and encouraged to pump our own gas). After spending about 15 minutes struggling with figuring out how to get the gas pumped we saw a sign on one of the other pumps saying that the gas station pumps were turned off at 9:45 for upgrades. SO irritating – especially as tired as we were.

We found another gas station and got home.

We entered the house and both cats looked at us skeptically, like they didn’t believe we were real. Lola hunkered and looked ready to bolt at any minute. Eventually, both cats realized it was really, actually, truly Andrew and me. The loving, pet-me fest was on. It continued this morning. The cats will not leave us alone. They missed us. And that is even with the extraordinary care they were given by Jill Headen (THANK YOU!). She was so good to them Lola even let Jill pet her. If that isn’t a mark of a cat whisperer, I don’t know what is.

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