The 767 leaves London Heathrow just 20 minutes late. This is because it needs de-icing, which I'm grateful for as it greatly decreases the odds of my death occurring today. I cannot remember a smoother flight over the Atlantic.
In Washington, DC, where I must change to a puddle jumper, the situation is less happy. Our 24-seat Canadian plane is an hour late for takeoff. We're pushed away from the gate but return to it 15 minutes later for 'parts replacement.' Again, I am grateful. All in, I arrive in Cleveland two hours late.
My mother and sister Kathy are waiting near the baggage carousels. My bag is on it before I get there. We leave Cleveland Hopkins International airport pretty quickly.
Within the hour, my nose explodes in a flood of snot, then slams shut like a bear trap, during the one hour drive to my mother's house and childhood home. This is exacerbated by the seven (or is it eight now?) cats and two dogs in residence, one of which requires daily insulin injections. Diabetic dogs. My sinuses rebel like colonials.
My mother's house (in which also lives my hilarious stepfather, Rocco, but I don't think it appropriate to call it his house) sits on precisely one acre of land on a rural Ohio state road. It's pretty much the same as it ever was, except there are, with the copious country-style knick-knacks, armed mousetraps all over the desks and counter surfaces. The bait, which would be in this part of the world cheese, is missing. In its place are pieces of plastic Swiss cheese-esque cubes. I can't imagine any mouse that would be fooled by this.
I'm soon told that the mousetraps are not for mice at all, but for the cats. They tend, as cats do in abundance, to insist on free reign of the place and frequent the countertops etc, especially at night or whenever no one is watching, as cats do. The traps are cat scarecrows. I'm worried that I'll lose a finger at some point over the next two weeks.
It turns out to be my niece who gets snapped first. For this I am also grateful, although it's also kind of sad.
My niece, Tiffany, who is graduating from university, and my nephew Bill, who is going to uni and working at McDonalds, arrive at my mother's house eventually. We eat beef roast and potatoes that my mother has been simmering in a crock pot all day.
I also meet my niece's boyfriend Gary. His stock is down with nearly all the family. At first, I cannot see why. He seems a shy, unassuming boy and at worst a bit thick. Then the reports come in, after he and Tiff have gone, that he says terrible, hurtful things to her on a regular basis, and she does nothing about it. I'm shocked by this as Tiff is not the sort to take shit from anyone.
The more things change etc, and I'm reminded of my sister and her first husband and all the noise that generated until they divorced in 1995. But onward...
Did I mention that I'm incredibly allergic to cats?
My sister brings me some super-duper nasal spray and a drug called loratadine (NB: drugs play a BIG part of conversation and controversy between family members. But more on that anon.). The nasal spray sorts me out, and, after everyone leaves, I go up to bed, now it's late enough to do so, ward off jet lag and breathe again. I sleep until 8a.m.
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