Whoops! The stitch pattern in Marie's sock is so much fun to knit, I neglected to obey the instruction to knit only stockinette on the bottom of the foot.
Good thing that I'm only a few rows in.
Okay, back to Christmas.
So, early on Christmas Day, I said goodbye to Kate & Company and made my way back to NYC. To JFK airport, to be specific. I gave myself four hours to drive down there, return the rental car, arrive at the Terminal, and check in for my flight two hours early (with about 45 minutes of wiggle room for something going amiss--gots to have me the wiggle room when arriving at the airport). Of course, because it was Christmas Day I arrived at the rental-car place in just under three hours. There was almost no traffic--even in the spots where there's always a delay, there were no delays.
Yep, I arrived at JFK almost four hours before my flight. What to do with those four hours? I discovered that there's a surprising amount of things to do at airport these days. I walked around a large terminal, and rode the moving walkways (love those!). I did a bit of tax-free shopping. I had my Christmas dinner (vegetarian shumai). I had a pedicure. (Seriously! I probably wouldn't do it again, but the novelty value of having this done at the airport--when all you have to do is sit around and wait anyway--was worth it.) I enjoyed a little QT with me. I knit a bit. Just a bit. As I wrote earlier, I started to feel a twinge in my wrist, so I didn't want to push it. I stared into space. I called people on my cellphone. ("It's me. I'm at the airport. Good. Fine. No traffic. Not crowded. On time so far. Getting a pedicure! Really, yeah!") All in all I must be getting older, because I easily found a myriad of ways to make four hours go by quickly.
The same with the flight. I don't fly to Europe all that often, maybe every couple of years. And it was three and a half years since my prior trip, so I don't even stick to that schedule so well. In past flights, I noticed a point when I realize that I'm stuck in that plane for the next several hours. It takes a while for me to mentally accept that I'm essentially rooted to that seat until we land. If I were five years old, I could get up and run around (and maybe someone would think it cute if I sneaked into Business Class). But I'm 32. If I ran around the plane someone would tackle me, tie me up, and a police officer would arrest me at the other end. Let's not even think about Business Class. So, I stayed in the seat.
This time, however, I didn't get that. By the time I settled in, read, knit (damn twinge), ate, watched a movie (Ratatouille), drank some OJ, dozed, watched TV (The Office), and thought about how annoying it was for the person in front of me to push his seatback into my face, it was almost time to land. Ha!
Then Heathrow keeps you busy. I had a two-hour layover, with a solid hour consumed just by getting myself from gate to gate. Then once I was where I needed to be I waited (and waited) for the flight gate to Düsseldorf flight to be announced. I was tired of everything at that point. Tired of flying, waiting, sitting, standing, walking, moving. In other words I needed to be stationary for a few hours, which I did as soon as I arrived in Cologne (think ZZZzzzzzz).