Waking Up to This, not That
Waking up is not my favorite thing to do.
Actually, I don’t mind the waking up. It’s the having to get up, get wet (in the shower), paint my face, and go somewhere—all before my eyelids are up.
I prefer to climb out of bed when I wake up, usually about 7 am, get a cup of coffee, cruise through emails and feeds, check the news, write for a while, and about mid-day, brush my teeth and dress.
That’s why, with my day job, I bid afternoon schedules. I’ve tried getting to Charlotte’s airport at 7 or 8 am. Morning traffic is full of us poor dolts trying to get to work. I’m always watching the clock because there have been eight wrecks and I’m sitting dead in the water, waiting to creep down the interstate.
The airlines have contracts with the hotels for crew rooms and ground transportation to the hotel. These are negotiated with each hotel for a competitive rate, much better than you or I could get. Since we’re no one special and the company is paying a discounted rate, the hotels often put us in the less desirable rooms. Which makes economic sense to someone not having to stay in that room.
Last night we stayed in the hotel known for its chocolate chip cookies. No chump hotel. Right? Turned on the light, checked under the bed, in the closet, then I pulled back the shower curtain–still checking for a mad raper hiding. And if he was there? What would I do? No where to go at that point.
But there was a roach in my tub. A giant roach. A dead roach. No, that’s not a roach. It’s 2-inch rusted hole in the tub surface. Another feature of those less desirable rooms.
We stay on the beach in Melbourne, Florida. While most of the rooms have balconies and either a spectacular view or an off-to-the-right-can-you-see-it? view of the ocean, they also have some rooms with no windows at all. It is a box. With a door. And air-conditioners on the roof outside the exterior wall.
These are their handicapped rooms. Dungeons for those already facing life with extra challenges.
One New Year’s Eve, that’s where they put us. We left a stuffy metal tube for a stuffy dark box. The next morning, I asked the clerk about our rooms.
Her response, “We’re full, our handicapped rooms are all we have.”
To which I asked, “Then, you’re telling me, if you have an American soldier, hurt while serving our country, who comes here, that’s the kind of room you stick him in? You should be ashamed of yourself.”
I generally stay quiet about most things at hotels because airline crews don’t have the best reputation to begin with, but this just struck a nerve.
Since I know you always have gorgeous views of the beaches or mountains when you travel, I’m going to show you some of our views. These are the views I most often find out my hotel window:
Sometimes, they make a mistake and we’ll get this view.
Or Tulsa . . . a really neat town.
Back home, we’re always stopping to look out at the lake. It hasn’t gone anywhere yet.
Most days there’s nothing extraordinary, unless you count this:
This was just before the sun rose above the trees.
And this was a little later about 7 am.
But the best is when it rains.
A steady downpour with a little thunder and lightning.
This stump you see below came from a tree that fell down in a storm last summer. Most of it was cut up for firewood, but I saved a few stumps for seats at the fire pit and I made a table out of this stump.
It’s still coming down, but slowed up for a few minutes . . .
Then, started back up . . .
Then we had hail! This is what the MyRadar app showed. I love this app and it’s free.
All the while it rained, we had the doors open to the porch. The sound was lovely. Look closely at the image below. The star you see in the bottom half near Hwy. 21 is our home’s location.
See those white divots on the lake? That’s the hail hitting the water.
Oh, well. It’s noon, time to brush my teeth.
Until next time. Be sweet!