My ride to the airport was uneventful, blissfully so, considering Matt had started the truck while I was still in the bathtub. There was no time for throwing down hay or giving Baby Thunder a scratch on his chin. I ran out of the house/barn with Mia's pink high school luggage filled with handmade gifts and goodies, and enough homemade soap to clean all the Mormons in Nevada. On the way to the airport Matt said with deadly seriousness, Look at me...you are MY wife and in case you think you are going to RUN OFF with any wealthy rancher out there you better think twice 'cause ALL your animals will be on the one way TRUCK real quick. Okay, honey, no problem, YOU are the one and only and I would never think of doing such a thing. (I have to deal with this at my age????) The check in was so smooth, the sky was so blue, and the flight was so uneventful, I thought this is just too good to be true. Flying over the snow tipped Rockies, over Aspen where I skiied as a wild young downhill racer 30 years ago, was just beautiful and put me in a dream-like state. The young steward kept bringing me cranberry juice and peanuts and I read three magazines more thoroughly than I ever do at home. The flight came in 40 minutes early and there were my three pink suitcases off the ramp, 1,2,3 in a row. I took Eric by surprise getting in so early and had to wait a half hour or so for them to come and get me, but there were the Little Ones, running to me with outstretched arms and squeals of delight. We piled into Eric's big four door lime green Mercedes sedan and motored off to the Turquoise Mountains outside of Las Vegas to start Christmas in Heaven.
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