Today I was going to fly to DC for a meeting and then return this evening in time for a meeting at church. Good plan, thought I. Up and out the door & a leisurely drive to Langley where I pick up the air mobility flight to Davidson and then a van into Arlington... all in time to do my consulting & facilitation gig. Then, I'd just reverse it and make it back in time for a 7pm meeting.
On NPR this morning as I was doing my hair, thought I heard them talking about high winds and cancelled flights in the mid-west. "Okay," thought I, "I don't live in the mid-west." On the drive north over the Monitor Merrimack Bridge, the wind was whipping and my little Kia tried to slip lanes once or twice. Still, no problem; I'd be in DC in less than 90 minutes.
I get to Langley and check in at base ops; the young airmen behind the counter smiles sheepishly when she tells me the flight's been cancelled. Sure; she just enjoyed seeing the shock on my face. How will I get north; at this point, even if I drive, I'm not going to make it in time.
I finally get through to my client; we talk through the gig. It's a straight facilitation gig; anybody can do it. He's not so convinced. Would I be willing to facilitate by phone. Sure. I'll have my cell phone at the ready and also head into the office.
I drive home, park the car, and head over to the ferry to head to downtown.
Oh, did I mention the high winds? And that the ferry can't dock when the winds are real strong? Happens only once or twice a year. Today's one of them.
If I stayed in bed, I'd at least be warm, nestled in the cotton sheets as the sounds of the whipping wind drone about my home.