I’ve had a hard week and, I’m telling you, one blog isn’t nearly enough to share all of the details. A few of the particulars: A beloved family member suddenly and unexpectedly was sent to the hospital, we scrambled to find last-minute plane tickets, an available hotel room, any kind of rental car as quickly as we could. Then we did the airport dance – airports used to be fun; not any longer – and it all came together at the end, but I was on tenterhooks, expecting the smallest loose thread to cause everything to fall apart. We were told to expect the worse, but the worse thankfully didn’t happen (such joy from EVERYONE) but, because the worse hadn’t happened, we were no longer allowed to visit our BFM. Not for days, we were told, possibly for weeks. The hospital had COVID-19 restrictions were in place, and those restrictions were not unwarranted. The hospital has at least one entire floor of COVID-19-stricken patients.
(In the paragraph above, I first wrote, “I was on tenderhooks”, only for Microsoft Word to flag the word as incorrect. Mignon Fogarty, the Grammar Girl, has advised us all that correct word in my situation is “tenterhooks.” It’s one of those long-ago words that makes little sense today. It references the metal hooks that, once upon a time, were used to hold cloth as it dried. While drying, the cloth stretched and grew taut. The people in the 18th century decided that when someone felt stretched or appeared taut, they were kind of like the cloth left on tenterhooks. You need to remember, it was hundreds of years ago. Lacking all electronic escape in those days, people eagerly gathered around the tenter to watch their cloth dry. Good times.)
We returned to the airport yesterday morning, ready to return home, only to discover that our American Airlines flight was delayed. Then it was delayed again. Then delayed once again. One we were allowed onboard, I didn’t hear anyone complain about our additional leisure time in the airport terminal. We knew we were lucky that we were able to fly out at all that day. According to Business Insider, well over 1500 AA flights were canceled on the 31st.
When my partner and I finally made it home, it was dusk. I was so weary that, as night fell, I didn’t have the energy to watch a horror movie on Halloween night for the first time since… forever. I did eat some Halloween candy because I was, after all, still breathing, but that was the highlight of my evening.
So, no Slaxx for me, the movie about possessed evil designer jeans, no Freaky, the movie about a serial killer swapping bodies with a well-intentioned teenager, either. And no regrets about this lost opportunity. I may save the flicks for next year. Or I may watch them on Thanksgiving or Christmas.
Who says we shouldn’t watch horror movies on Thanksgiving? Who says we shouldn’t eat Halloween candy at Christmas? I’ll have to get more Halloween candy, though. After all, last night’s bag barely survived the night.
There’s no chance it survives the week.
(In the paragraph above, I first wrote, “I was on tenderhooks”, only for Microsoft Word to flag the word as incorrect. Mignon Fogarty, the Grammar Girl, has advised us all that correct word in my situation is “tenterhooks.” It’s one of those long-ago words that makes little sense today. It references the metal hooks that, once upon a time, were used to hold cloth as it dried. While drying, the cloth stretched and grew taut. The people in the 18th century decided that when someone felt stretched or appeared taut, they were kind of like the cloth left on tenterhooks. You need to remember, it was hundreds of years ago. Lacking all electronic escape in those days, people eagerly gathered around the tenter to watch their cloth dry. Good times.)
We returned to the airport yesterday morning, ready to return home, only to discover that our American Airlines flight was delayed. Then it was delayed again. Then delayed once again. One we were allowed onboard, I didn’t hear anyone complain about our additional leisure time in the airport terminal. We knew we were lucky that we were able to fly out at all that day. According to Business Insider, well over 1500 AA flights were canceled on the 31st.
When my partner and I finally made it home, it was dusk. I was so weary that, as night fell, I didn’t have the energy to watch a horror movie on Halloween night for the first time since… forever. I did eat some Halloween candy because I was, after all, still breathing, but that was the highlight of my evening.
So, no Slaxx for me, the movie about possessed evil designer jeans, no Freaky, the movie about a serial killer swapping bodies with a well-intentioned teenager, either. And no regrets about this lost opportunity. I may save the flicks for next year. Or I may watch them on Thanksgiving or Christmas.
Who says we shouldn’t watch horror movies on Thanksgiving? Who says we shouldn’t eat Halloween candy at Christmas? I’ll have to get more Halloween candy, though. After all, last night’s bag barely survived the night.
There’s no chance it survives the week.
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