Travel to Toronto

Last Edit September 29, 1999

I did not call the vet.
One Chinchilla is very ill and dying - I left it medicated but it is a deadly disease and I have lost animals to it before. Both the sick one and my gray Momma are in the kitchen.
The rabbits are fed and fat and happy although the very old male (we raised it from birth) is very moulty - he always looks like a mess in the summer. The rescued rabbit eats like a horse. Probably why someone turned it loose on the streets.
I will think about a new cage so they have more room - they are in a large cage with a divider in the center. Doesn't give them hopping room when a water bowl and a feeder are added.
The old gray Momma Chinchilla is happy to be in the house and is hopping in her cage.
She loves shredded wheat.
The two cats find this entertaining when they are not grabbing at my ankles, tearing around the house or climbing on my Fabio cutouts.
TH dog knows.
We had spent hours at Red Lobster, then Kinko's then home. We have elected not to bother going to bed.
I need to pack makeup (I ended up taking it all). I need to reduce clothes (so I stuck a few more in).
I wanted the computer inside of the carry-on.
It's on its own wheels now and the small roll-on is now to be checked.
My purse is again loose - two of them - one nested inside the other. My jewelry gets carried. (Still lost a pair of silver earrings.)
All my cash is in one spot - ditto the expensive jewelry. Not good thinking.
I rearrange a little.
I have travel insurance. $4,000 total. $2,000 each. The computer if worth far more than that even if it is the older 3400C notebook. Add the HP portable printer, expanded keyboard, batteries and charger.
The cameras! Well, the less said.
I need to get some supplemental business coverage.
I am still folding laundry and rounding up underwear at 1AM. But the dresses are done. The shoes packed. I like to change shoes every day to keep from problems.
The spare nylons...
The whip.....
My son fits all his clothes into one large duffel bag - which he can easily lift. He adds a book bag (wishful thinking) and his wheeled camera case. He's done.
That means I get to have three checked bags.
I will.
No shuttle. Should have booked one earlier.
No limo (ditto).
I will be driving - which was the original plan.
I never get my hair washed. Oh well.
I have coffee at 2:30PM. I travel with a jar of decaf and some Mocha mix and Sweet&Low, a cup and a spoon.
I travel with a week's worth of Medifast. A week's worth of vitamins and all my prescription drugs.
I dress.
My son loads the car.
I did the litter pans while he played video games.
He had toast.
We secure, lock down and pull out.
I get all of four blocks and have to stop. I do a U-turn and drive back so he can be sure he loaded the computer (nothing was in the street).
And then I need to stop under a street light so I can "touch" the money and the tickets.
Then, he mentions he forgot dot labels for the film cans.
We U-turn on Mowry before we hit the freeway and go to Long drug store - open 24 hours.
The Drug Store - Again!
Finally, I get on the freeway, 880 south to 237 - my normal route. Because I know this one. But at 5AM it is a far faster run - it takes 15 minutes to get to where I would get off for work. On to 101 North to SFO.
Past the discount lot - too much luggage to use it.
Straight to the departure terminal. I drop off my worried son and the luggage - all but my purse (briefcase).
"You will come back here?" he asks.
"Of course," I lie.
I have no clue.
But God help the poor fool who prevents me from reconnecting with my child. I don't care if he is 18 and 6'2" plus. He is my baby.
My older son had said to use the garage. That is short term. I am not sure of the rules. We will be gone for 6 days.
I roam the airport and finally get the road to lead me back out to the freeway. I follow signs, blindly. It is dark and chilly and I am in unfamiliar territory. And a construction zone!
I follow other cars - onto the freeway, North one more exit, follow signs off, and follow cars that are zipping around and evidently headed for the long-term lot.
Aha - I find a shuttle stop.
I then cruise around looking for an open stop.
I drive, and drive, and panic, and drive.
Eureka! In a sea of cars, I spot a hole - not too far from the shuttle stop.
Near "Fisherman's Wharf 10". I write this down on the ticket. I zip the ticket into my bag. I recite its location several times. So I remember.
I hurry to lock up and get to the shuttle and hook the shuttle.
A maniac bus driver now captures me.
He whips us through the back 40 to the terminal - I end up right across the street from my pacing son.
This is good because I am in heels - I am carrying my low shoes - I am in a business suit - black - but it is cold so I have my purple ski jacket on (sized xxxxL - on purpose - goes over everything).
My hair is in clippy things and I have managed some semblance of makeup. The better you look, the better the service. I have learned this.
It only took 30 minutes for me to get back.
A red cap (porter) drags the bags to the head of the ticket line. All of them. I tip well. I need the help.
We check the four bags, carry four (computer, bookbag, cameras and purse). We head for security.
They don't even blink at the computer bag, the film (56 rolls) or the cameras. But they dust his bookbag for residue!
I just shake my head at this.
We made the gate and settled in (1 hour wait).
I will board early (not by much it turns out since the couple ahead of us a child as ridiculously slow and block the aisle so everyone piles up behind us anyway).
I plan to repeat the hat -trick when we get home - abandon my son and run for the parking lot. Drive back and get him and the luggage. Sounds simple. (Read on! Another story!)
Just allow 30-40 minutes while I get acquainted with the freeway and the airport.
The never-ending construction.
The terminal.
But it does beat dragging eight bags on and off a shuttle bus.
I don't care how good I've gotten at it.
Yes---big sons are useful!