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Sunday,
February 10, 2008
Back in the clavicle of Texas
The morning kicked off with our last meal from Roaring Fork cafeteria (I love going to Disneyworld with Stacy and Clara, but I'm also looking forward to having a regular meal with, like, meat and vegetables) and a visit to the beach so that Stacy could soak up as much sunlight as possible before returning to a Chicago that was apparently channeling the Arctic (we're talking a mean temperature of 0°F with a -30°F windchill. Yiii...). I, having finally learned my lesson, sat with my back to the sun and let the pleasantly crisp breeze cool my sunburn a treat.
Clara, meanwhile, hauled back and pitched her new Princess Minnie Mouse doll into the "stream" that runs from inside the Wilderness Lodge down to the pool, forcing Stacy to clamber over some rocks and retrieve it. Gotta say, the kid has an arm on her, althought I can completely understand the muttering that if this happened one more time Clara was going in after Princess Minnie.
After checking out, I managed to talk my way onto the Disney Magical Express (I was scheduled to leave a half hour after Stacy and Clara -- when I called the office to see if this could be rearranged, I found out that the office was closed on weekends. And we hadn't gotten the notice until Saturday. Charming) and we were on our way to Orlando International Airport. DME isn't stupid -- those little ceiling-mounted video screens run all through the bus and they play little commercials about Disney cruises and other fun things. The cruise in particular had Stacy and I looking at each other in a considering manner -- still, I would kinda like to do the cruise thing with Lyndon first.
Then it was a two-leg flight on Southwest (chosen because it was the airline Stacy took and it meant we could sit together until she took off -- much as I love her, I believe I will be reverting to American next year because they offer non-stops to Orlando). Result: I am home, distinctly sunburnt, pleasantly stuffed from the pan pizza I ordered on the way, and resting my very sore tootsies on the ottoman.
Oh, and a tip to any heroically sized travelers flying on Southwest -- it's a pain to get off at the end, true, but you want the rearmost window seat on the left side of the plane as you're facing the back. The bulkhead armrest goes up, giving you a blessed 2" of additional sitting space and ensuring that you don't spend the flight feeling as if your hips are in a vise.
No, don't thank me -- noblesse oblige, don't you know.