The suitcase this morning felt so familiar as I packed it, and my little dog, Bronwen, dropped down into depression when she saw it happening. The security lines, taking out my laptop and cell phone and keys, taking off my jacket and shoes, pulling out the sandwich bag of cosmetics; then rushing to throw it all back together and head down some long walkway, linoleum and stainless steel handrails, and windows that look out onto tarmac. On the plane, buckle up, air on, lights out, pull the window shade, put on the head phones. Off the plane and into the ladies room, where I find myself swaying in front of the mirror. No, I am not fainting. I'm a sailor!
What fun, I am still a sailor, and I hope I keep a little sailor inside forever.
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