Ever since Friday evening, when I, through my powers of observational skills and wifely concern, grounded Biff from flying with a friend due to what was likely a reaction by Biff to a bug/spider bite that landed us in the local quickie doc for a while (because Friday nights are meant for that!), he's been itching (get it?) to go flying.
Like, all weekend.
Like, not being able to go flying because I might have, in fact, been SAVING HIS LIFE was a major impediment to him, such was his concentration on airplanes and all things airplane.
Like, every time I asked 'what would you like to do right now?' he was all 'Let's go FLYING! Haheeheeheheehee!' and then turned around in circles a few times until he got dizzy and fell down.
I blame the prednisone for this, for the record.
So, each time, for the first 50 times, that he suggested the whole flying thing, I was all like, 'aw, naw, dawhg, we can't go flying. You might swell UP again, and then where would I be?' because I have read enough 'Flying' mag stories about near disasters and realize I cannot, for all my pluck and spirit, fly an airplane if for some reason the pilot in commend suddenly needed to concentrate on grave injury/illness/death, and flying with someone who'd just been to the doc due to some weird thing going on was Freaking Me Out.
As in - every bad airline movie of the '70's was playing in my head each time he mentioned how nice it would be to be flying Right.At.That.Moment. I might have an issue with flying, and the fact that I can't control it. A tiny, baby issue. *Ahem*
However. Despite recent events, and my overreaction to them, he managed to stay apparently healthy for 2+ days (no bonus odd swelling, for YOU, mister!), so today, at his puppy-eyed insistence, we went flying. It doesn't matter what we DID while in the air, just that for Pete's Sake We Took Off and whatever little demon in in his magnificent brain that now needs 'Feeding, Seymour,' on the junk food of flight is a big ol' monster of need and will take any little hit, no matter how small, as enough to satiate it for a while.
My jitters at the lowering clouds on takeoff were somewhat mollified by the 1) his skill at flying and 2) the awesome view we had of the new project going on in our town, which from the adjacent road is a total mystery but from the air is slightly less of one. Let's just say that one look at it from the air seems to indicate that at least one more traffic light is going to be added to the eastward side of town. Meh, and grumble. Stupid town, for being so great to live in people continue to want to build new homes here. I already miss the trees...
Eh, I'm sure I could look up what's happening out there, but hopping in an airplane and sussing it out from the sky, even when the sky is lowering and starting to gust a a bit, is way more fun. Who needs research?
After the quickest snoop ever at a thing that could have much more snooping, we had to return to base because of some cloud issues and a little bit of not-great visibility. It seems though, that the 30 minutes we spent in the air today have been a tonic to Biff, as he hasn't asked me ONCE when we're going flying next in the last 3 hours!
It's like a miracle.
That man? Possessed by flight. In the best possible way, because, and I quote from him: 'flying is more fun with you.' Which means, he loves it and wants me there, even if I refuse to take the yoke when he's switching tanks.
Everybody go 'd'awwwww'
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And that's just a thing that happened today.
Tiff out.
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