
It is a bit like this. Snow angels and piloting your own airplane are things you never are too old to do.
In a few short hours, we fly out of Adelaide en-route to the States. I always get a little uptight when it comes to....about now. I do not even know why. Is it wondering if we will get everything in the bags, which I have not yet even begun to pack? Perhaps it is the reminiscing of the flight I missed in Chicago and as a result had to spend the night on cot stamped American Airlines. Or the maybe all the stories Tony told the dinner guest last night about the flight disasters? He firmly believes that the safest place in an airplane that is crash landing is in the back lavatory. I am not so sure about that. :)
But off we go, getting younger by the minute. We leave at 9 am and after nearly 30 hours arrive at 9:30 pm the same day. You can not beat that.
The bags are calling much louder now...











Bert had to fix his board up before he takes a beating.
It was much harder than it looked!
Catching one.
Bert simply had to see if his would still fit or if the arm would fall off from dry rot when putting it on. I on the other hand, was trying to find one that might work for me. Ann said to try hers, but she is about one half of me and after one quick glance at the opening for trying it on, that idea was out. Then on to Jax's. By now it was clear that I was not meant to fit into the Pohl family. :) It went on with much effort. The legs, which were supposed meet the ankle, where more like mid-calf. The arms, mid-forearm. Bert did get it zipped, and it seemed like a winner (a tight winner) until he deflated my bubble by asking me if I could touch my toes. "Of course I can! But I don't think the wetsuit would agree...." So now we have to see about a rental.












They have to keep me in the family now, I know too much!







