Showing posts with label aviation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label aviation. Show all posts

Saturday, January 1, 2011

2011 BEGINS

With a "code id by nose", I retired early last evening, not waiting for midnight. Mr. Bob followed. Old folks we are and not much fun, sometimes.

This morning we grappled our way out of bed with the idea of watching the Rose Parade on television. As my foot hit the floor, I heard the drone of the stealth bomber.......too late to see it. Darn!One New Year's morning I was able to get out the door and into the front yard in time to see it fly low, right over our house. It was a thrill of a lifetime and when I yelled to Mr. Bob to HURRY UP and come see it, he..........who is obsessive about anything aviational, called back, "I already saw it on television". I could not believe my ears, so it was just the neighbor across the street and I who marveled at the experience and gave each other a thumbs up. And I'll never let that astonishing story die.

This morning Bob got to the living room first and switched on the television set. When I entered the room, he wasn't watching the parade, but craning his neck out the window, taking pictures of the
zeppelin ........... the same one that Christopher and Owen had the honor of naming, if you can remember back to when I wrote about that.

Having a blog really cuts down on conversational possibilities. I go to tell someone something that I consider interesting and most often, their response, when I'm two sentences into the telling, is "Oh, yes, I read about that in your blog".

Pasadena is just beyond the dip in the mountains that we can see out of our windows. Part of Mr. Bob's excitement was in being able to see both the zeppelin and a Goodyear blimp.





Phone calls and text messages have come from Alaska and from Tim in Hollywood this morning, wishing us a happy 2011. We're bound and determined that if things work out, and we mean to see that they do, this new year will be one of the best yet. That's our hope for you, too, as we begin to imprint this fresh new pad of a year.  As our Susan said, at 6 years old, on January 1 when she flounced into the room chirping, "Well, has everybody made their revolutions?" I have, Mr. Bob doesn't believe in them, and you? Happy New Year to you all. Realize that you are appreciated.