May you have clearing skies. 🙂
When you work in the north, lots of things are different. Since you’re surrounded by snow and ice for many months of the year, you learn to make tools of them.
So, what is this? It’s a frozen lake runway. There is another nearby airport (quite a large one, actually) that’s on dry land, but here, summer float planes can become winter ski or wheel planes just off Latham Island on Great Slave Lake.
Happy Wednesday. 🙂
As Monty Python used to say …
And now for something completely different.
Once upon a time, there was a pilot who had to fly an airplane very far, far north.
The pilot had done lots of flying before, but not very far, far north.
The pilot was looking forward to this trip.
On the morning of the flight, the pilot was up early in the dark darkness of the northern winter. It was very cold, but the airplane was in a warm hangar.
The pilot got the airplane ready as passengers gathered in the waiting room with their bags, boxes, a bunch of freight, two hamsters and one dog.
Now, this dog had to travel in the passenger cabin because … well, because there’s no freight compartment on this particular aircraft type.
This airplane is what’s called a combi – it carries a mix of passengers and freight, all on one level.
The pilot went inside to talk to the owner of this dog. It was a really big dog. A Great Dane. Its hair was really short and it was wearing a coat. It looked cold, miserable and scared.
It was shivering and shaking.
The pilot asked the owner to make sure that the dog had done its business before getting aboard.
It was a three hour flight; it’s not like there would a place to pull over and stop.
The owner assured the pilot that the dog had pooped, peed and burped.
Okay, thought the pilot. Let’s load and get this show on the road, so to speak.
40 minutes later, all was loaded and everyone was taxiing along just as the sun was coming up over a northern winter horizon.
The pilot applied power and started the take-off roll.
A satisfying back pressure as the aircraft lifted off …
Reaching altitude … settling in … And then, and then …
What is that God-awful stench?
If you took one of Lebron James’s basketball shoes after a number of heavy practises, stuck it in a vat of boiled cabbage, buried it under a chicken coop, and left it there for several weeks … then maybe you can imagine this malodorous vapour.
The pilot sent the co-pilot back to investigate.
He came scurrying back, turned green and promptly threw up all over the radios.
Chunks started to befoul the throttle levers as they slowly slid down the panel.
The pilot, floating by now on the ghastliest sea of odiferous gases, directed the co-pilot to do what he could to clean up himself and the cockpit.
With the autopilot on, the pilot went back to take a look, and … almost threw up too.
For there in the first row, the very large Great Dane had pooped a mutant-sized mound of poo. And was sort of standing in it. A baby elephant would have been proud.
The owner sat there, unreactive as the entire cabin starting collapsing into various stages of tummy trouble. He pretended not to notice.
Retching slightly, the pilot told the owner to clean up the mess.
“With what?” he snarled, “My bare hands?”
“If you have to, yes! Don’t you have any poo bags?” the pilot snarled back. “My co-pilot is sitting up there with a major case of the heaves. Now start cleaning this up!”
“I don’t have anything to put it in. I don’t have anything to pick it up with. What am I supposed to do?”
But a chorus, a groundswell, began from the back of the plane. Items starting finding their way to the front. Bags, hand sanitizers, towels and even a plastic spoon.
Sometimes, on your journey through life, you encounter twits with giant mounds of poo. But often, there are ordinary people who will help out with whatever they have, and will give you the hand sanitizer out of their pockets.
(And everyone lived to happily disembark the poo plane.)
You? What poo plane have you had in your life?
This post has been prompted by the wonderful Aussa Lorens who in turn got this idea from the equally wonderful Samara. Check out the 21 things that they irrationally love as well as their funny, irreverent, witty and flat-out amazing posts about all sorts of things.
So, without further ado, the 21 things that I irrationally love:
1. Red. I love red. Red shoes. Red pillows. Red cars. Red scarves. Red jackets. Red airplanes. Fun red is always good red.
2. Chocolate (and Nutella!). Whither thou goest, chocolate. When I do without it for a while I appreciate it even more. 🙂
3. Star Trek, et. al. Crazy about it, ever since I was a child. But not the last series, the one with Scott Bakula in it. With that crew, it sort of went from being deliberately campy/cheesy to just being kind of dumb.
4. Fast cars. I would love to own a Mustang. Sigh.
5. Pasta. With almost any kind of sauce. I sometimes dream about pasta. The ultimate comfort food.
6. Red wine. And not because it’s red, because I like white wines, too. But red wine – well, what can I say? Yum! Especially the wines of British Columbia’s Okanagan valley.
7. Steak. Especially with red wine. With a side of pasta. And a brownie for dessert? Yesss! (Have you noticed how a lot of this is about food?)
8. Airplanes. Love those, too. In fact, am completely passionate about them. Which works out really well because I’m a pilot.
9. Ocean beaches. Love ’em. Love walking on them. Sitting on them. Digging in them … and also love the
10. Ocean. Make that any ocean.
11. Cigars. I used to occasionally smoke them, but not any more. Still love the smell, though.
12. Laughing like a mad fool at stuff that other people think is rather lame.
13. Original Craftsman houses. Especially the red brick ones. They have character, they have personality, they have charm.
14. Fine line pens. Black. I really dislike having to use anything else.
15. Jacuzzi tubs. Not the outdoor hot tubs. The indoor ones.
16. Scarves. I’m not very talented at tying them, but I love them!
17. Italy. I adore all things Italian, not just their pasta and red wine. 🙂
18. Ireland. What a great country!
19. Countries that start with “I.” (Just kidding.) 🙂 Handmade pottery. I’m actually a little potty about pottery.
20. Museums. I love ’em.
21. Art galleries. Love these, too.
What are some of your irrational loves? Are you willing to do a post? Would love to read other “21” lists!