Little by little

According to my car's odometer, I travelled well over 4,000 miles in the month that I was back in "the states".  I would use the word "home" there, but it makes my dear hubby feel sad.  He likes me to consider wherever it is that he lays his head as my "home", so I guess I will oblige him.

My month in the states had me traveling back to "my old Kentucky homeland" several times, to Cincinnati to visit my dear in-laws, to Ocean Isle Beach, North Carolina for a vacation and two trips each to West Lafayette (Purdue University) and Bloomington (Indiana University). 

I think that I managed to only cook about 10 meals within that 30 day timespan.  Consequently, my midsection may have expanded just a bit.  David can never understand why, in the name of "fellowship",  there are so many meals out.  I try to explain to him that I have to eat, and the people I want to visit have to eat, so why not kill two birds with one stone? (Here are a few of the many people I enjoyed a meal with)

Finally it was time to head back to France.  I received an email from US AIR that I would be upgraded to first class on my first flight (Indy to Charlotte).  That is one of the nice perks about flying so much that you are a Silver level frequent flyer.  You don't have to pay for the upgrade and not only do you have a nicer seat, but you get to check TWO free bags to your final destination.  That meant that all of the items that were in the "wait until December" pile were now coming with me.  I had packed and re-packed my original bag about 5 times maximizing my 50 pounds of allowable baggage.  Now I would be traveling with a 50 lb bag, a 40 lb bag and my carry on.

I had been diligently checking my Charlotte to Frankfurt, Germany seat assignment about every 12 hours.  God had managed to keep the seat next to mine open and I would have the luxury of spreading out over two seats for my 9 hour flight.  As many of you are my Facebook friends, you already know that I had a tiny person sitting across the aisle from me.

Well, I also had the opportunity to sit two rows behind a newborn and right in front of a 3 year old toddler.  I was surrounded!!!  Actually, the kids were not too bad.  The father of the toddler behind me was the worst…he almost knocked a drink all over me during dinner as he was adjusting himself to feed his son.


I managed to sleep for about 40 minutes total and arrived in Frankfurt at 7:00 am European time.  That would be 1:00 AM in Indiana.  They parked us at a "remote gate", which means we had to disembark and load onto shuttle buses to arrive at the actual terminal.  Once inside the terminal I had to pass through customs.  There was no line and no waiting, which is always a blessing.  Then I headed to baggage claim along with my fellow passengers who were ending their flying journeys in Frankfurt.

We were in baggage claim for about 25 minutes and still hadn't seen any of our luggage.  Finally, a German voice came over the intercom.  About 30 people groaned and started leaving.  Then a French voice, another 20 people groaned and left.  Mercifully, an English announcement told me that I was in terminal one and that my luggage was in terminal two.  Now I knew what all of the groans were for.  Terminal two was located several sets of escalators and a tramway from where I was currently waiting.  

Onward I went.  If you've done any air travel, then you know that you just can't walk into baggage claim from the outside.  I had to wait for an airport employee to escort me through to baggage claim to pick up my 90 lbs of luggage.  Now, because I was in terminal two, I had to drag those two bags back to terminal one to catch my bus for Strasbourg.  Let me tell you, it's not easy getting two heavy bags onto/off of an escalator (let alone 3 separate escalators) and then manhandling them onto/off of a crowded tram.  I was a hot mess by the time I reached terminal one.

Now I just had to wait for the bus to start loading.  I was second in line with my two bags and had cooled off enough in the 60 degree air to not scare anyone who might be standing near me.  The bus driver appeared and all heck broke loose.  Suddenly I had 5 Muslim women who somehow had snaked their way in front of me and were throwing their bags into the bus hold.  One even started asking a person three people behind me to hand her their bag so that she could get it on the bus.  I finally managed to give her an evil eye and get my two bags into the luggage hold.  I am not exaggerating when I tell you that my bags were the last two to fit on my side of the bus. 

Now, it was time for ME to board.  I was about 6 people deep in the line.   Again, I went from the front of a seemingly easy boarding location to people smashing in from the side and pulling 4-5 people along to the front with them.  WHAT THE HECK??  Do Europeans not understand what a line means?  WAIT YOUR STINKIN TURN!!  While I did not throw my arm out to prevent people from boarding in front of me, I certainly wanted to. (And yes, I may have done that during a day-after-Thanksgiving shopping trip to Target…don't judge.)

Finally, I was let on the bus.  I snagged a window seat toward the front and settled into my seat for the 2 1/2 hour ride to Strasbourg.  Well, the seat next to me stayed empty for all of 2 minutes.  Suddenly a man plopped his 4(ish) year old daughter in the seat next to me.  WHAT?  Yep, two parents and three kids under 4 meant that the oldest had to sit with a complete stranger.

She was fascinated with my phone….that's her mom over her right shoulder

We hadn't even left the airport before the poor little girl was asleep in her seat…well, sort of her seat, sort of my seat.  What is a mother to do??  Of course I pulled her over onto my lap and covered her up with my sweater.  The mom did thank me profusely for my efforts and I was able to spend the ride praying over a precious little muslim girl whose name I didn't even know.

My bus ride was over and my leg was quite asleep.  Time to fight my way back to my luggage and pull it off the bus.  I drug the bags with me around the corner to the train station and hailed a taxi to take me to my apartment.  I was in the home stretch!  My bed was calling my name.  I just had to get into the apartment.  The taxi dropped me off and I managed to drag my 90 lbs of baggage inside the front door and up the 10 steps to the elevator.  

OH MY GOLLY!!!!  The elevator was broken.  Yes, you might have heard me groan last Friday.  I live on the 5th floor of our building.  That's more than 100 steps to my apartment.  I get winded walking up those steps just carrying my own body….how the heck am I going to get 3 bags up those steps without dying???

There is a Patch the Pirate song titled "Little by Little" that my kids used to listen to.  The words were very applicable to my situation.  Here is the chorus…

Little by little, inch by inch,

by the yard it's hard,

by the inch what a cinch!

Never stare up the stairs,

just step up the steps.

Little by little inch by inch

Praise God, I did it without dying. I dragged one bag up, one step at a time and then went back down for the next one.  I got everything into our apartment and headed straight for the bed.  David came home 5 hours later.  I hadn't unpacked any of my bags, but at least I had napped and taken a shower.  

When I told my friend, Lisa, about my journey home she laughed and said that God was calling me to serve in the nursery at church.  Wouldn't you know it?  They needed a teacher for the 6-8 year olds this past Sunday.  David kept elbowing me to volunteer, but hey, I can't speak enough French yet!!

Wishing you a week where you can enjoy the "little by little" moments that you will encounter. Don't worry, you'll come out on the other end eventually.  God bless!!