Ouray Yoga™

Normally, I don’t tend to blog about trips to So. Cali, after all for my husband it’s just going home. We did have an ominous start timing our drive into DIA with only the 3 rd tornado to ever touchdown within a stones throw of tarmac.  We were physically stopped on Pena Blvd like sitting ducks waiting to be swept-up to Oz. Meanwhile, a schoolgirl friend I ran into after check-in mentioned that she was forced to go to the restrooms/shelters. She was quite disgruntled having just been served her wine, much ado for having to slam her libation. Needless to say we finally boarded the Frontier plane, soon to find out that even though I spent extra for assigned seats because I didn’t check-in 24 hours ahead, run the 400m under 5 minutes and shuffle, shuffle step ball change and turn, I was given the prime seating of the very last row. I do believe the next gouging of US flights will be to charge us to use the loo. (‘Course we don’t want to give them any ideas, do we.) La