Mrs. A, back home, with stories ...

You might have read earlier that Mrs. A spent Easter Weekend in Virginia with her family. She went, she returned and all is well.

Of course, neither of us go anywhere without getting our tootsies involved in something or other. On the way out of Lambert Saturday afternoon, waiting to board at a gate at the very end of Concourse A, Mrs. A's flight was delayed -- as were all other flights at Lambert -- by a herd of STL police, armed and with dogs, running through the concourse, bringing all of the tarmac workers into the terminal and then taking the whole LE shebang down through one of those "secret" doors.

It was over in minutes and the whisper from the ticket agents was that there was a drug bust.  No confirmation.  Just excitement.  Mrs. A barely made her connecting flight and presumably the world was saved for democracy.  Or not, if you read the political blogs.

Her weekend was calm and fulfilling and mine was boring, having to constantly reassure Tasha that Mommy was just back at the Puppy Farm visiting her littermates.

Then came Tuesday night, time to pick Mrs. A up at the airport.  Apparently American Airlines has a different notion of "on-time" arrival than I do.  Grr.  Half-an-hour in the Lambert cell-phone lot is plenty of time to cruise a time or two through the radio dials.  And, by the way, is there a better place to be car-jacked or mugged than an un-policed and un-guarded acre of parking carved out of the Lambert Field long-term parking area?

And if that wasn't enough Big Fun, while taking a shower just before leaving, there I stood, all soaped up (of course) and the water stopped running.  Poof. No water and me all soapy.  WTF?

Threw on a robe and ran downstairs to see if maybe we had forgotten to pay the water bill.  No notice on the door, just no water, anywhere in the house.  Crap. This NEVER happens!  But I'm soapy all over and I've got to rinse.  I grab three half-liters of water from a case in the kitchen (fortunately not yet refrigerated) and use them.  I dress and start to get on the road when the next-door Bearman calls me, letting me know he's got no water, too.

On the way to Lambert, Bearman lets me know by wireless that whomever the Hell it is that supplies the water has had a mains break and we'll be without for, maybe, six hours.  Hey, good news!  At least there's an end game!

On to the airport and the thank God for concealed carry self-defense cell lot, pick up Mrs. A, head off to Denny's for a bite and then to home, by which time the water has been restored.

For what it's worth, we have much better water pressure since the mains break was repaired.  Looks like it had been on a slow leak for a while.

And now today is Mrs. A's birthday.  Whew.  Growing older with this red-headed babe from West Virginia has been the best part of my life.  I hope it's so for her, too.