Our journey home was a long one, but ended at my parents front door, which is what matters most. Phase 1 consisted of a Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride-esque trip in a cargo van from Crimmy to Frankfurt. I’ve barely ever gone that fast in ANY vehicle, let alone a cargo van, and despite the mini-dose of Dramamine, Falcor was unable to stop himself from upchucking all over the floor. He’s prone to motion-sickness, what can I say?
Phase 2 began when we arrived in Frankfurt and checked in for our flight. We were 3.5 hours early and the staff was incredibly helpful. Checking on things for Falcor, letting us pre-weigh our extremely heavy bags. And despite the fact that we were inconvenienced by a canceled flight the day before, the travel Gods smiled upon us briefly by placing us on a flight that was only half full. We stretched out and pretended to watch movies while enjoying the mind-numbing effects of German sleeping pills, highly recommended over the U.S. version.
Phase 3 was the most hairy leg of our journey, consisting of a white-knuckle ride home from Chicago. Rain turned to snow, snow turned to sleet, and sleet became the rarely seen ice-slush before turning into snow again. By the time we arrived home at 5am, Dave and I were ready for lunch and my mom was on the verge of blacking out. Jet-lag set in, but we are home ladies and gentlemen, we are home.
When I woke up after 3 hours of glorious sleep, I put on my puffiest coat and marched up to my best friend’s house. In the top 5 of the most amazing things about coming from a small town is the fact that I can walk to most of my friends houses, the bar, the Co-op and the public library. Jess suited up and we walked the Real Boy through the snow day madness.
Hasn’t spring sprung?
You’d barely recognize this scene from the sunny days of our wedding.
Doing my part to keep the driveway pristine, making my dad proud.
Dave does some heavy lifting.
My parents are happy to see us, but tired from the long trip from Chicago.
Out for David’s favorite Cajun fish fry! We know we are back in America because we got carded!
In Marquette, you can walk through town, stopping in several businesses along the way, with a gas can. No big deal.
The snow piles up on the sandstone.