On the Fence

We need to replace our fence. It's so old, I don't even know how long it's been there. I do know it's the second fence that's been put up since I've lived here (well over 30 years). I believe that it is somewhere between 20 and 25 years old. I definitely got my money's worth out of it, but it has seen better days. Lots better days.

Enter contractor A. He is replacing the gutters on our house and wanted to quote for the fence, as well. So far, he remains the high bidder at $27K. To be fair, that price included a sliding gate but I did mention that he might want to revise his quote and take out that fancy gate because I'm pretty sure we can live without that. But I suppose that if he couldn't keep the $5K gate, he wasn't interested because he never gave me an updated bid and the gutters are completed.

Then there's contractor B. B for Bubba. Bubba didn't give me the quote in writing. Bubba called me up and gave me three different prices. I wrote them all down. One was for pressure treated pine, one was for cedar, and one was for pre-stained cedar. They ranged from $6K to $9K. But then he called back to tell me that he didn't realize he was supposed to quote replacing the entire fence. (Really? And the part he didn't think was being replaced is actually the section that's the absolute worst!) So he changed his bid and pushed it up to $13K. Now, it was a Friday night and I think it might have been "Miller Time" for Bubba. He called back to tell me that the $13K did not include the stain. Then he called back again to tell me that the $13K was pine, not cedar. Then he called back yet again to tell me that he was going to honor the $9K price, but that it wouldn't include the stain. Am I the only one who's confused?

On to contractor C. Contractor C was eager. He came out after 7 pm (fortunately it's still light) did the measurements and wrote everything up. Nothing wrong with his price and his description of what he wanted to do sounded just fine. But he wanted to be paid in three installments. For a four day job. He wanted it in equal thirds and he wanted his first third then and there even though he wouldn't be starting the job for a couple of weeks. I was ready to give him a check but Mark thought we ought to do a little due diligence. (We have a friend who was converting his garage into a game room and gave a contractor a check for $11K and never saw him again.) I did my best to look this guy up. He claimed to have been in business for over 25 years but had no website and no Facebook page for his business. What he did have were two complaints - one from a guy who gave him $3K and never saw him again and another from a guy whose fence blew down within a month. He called several times to see if we'd made a decision and I just told him we were not happy making three payments on a job that wouldn't even take a week. (I gave the guy who did my laundry room some money up front and it took him 8 weeks to finish. No money until it's done - that's my new policy!) But I have to say that I found it a bit odd that when we refused to sign the contract and give him a check on the spot, he refused to leave the written quote.

Next up was contractor D. He phoned me as I was on the way to a medical appointment. Apparently he was in the area and could come out right then. Didn't seem like a good idea since I wasn't home. I told him the following day would be better and I never heard from him again. That was over a week ago.

We had one more guy come out. He was from what appeared to be a substantial company - multiple "wrapped" vehicles and multiple employees, professional-sounding back office staff. He told me their policy was to collect half the money up front before starting the project. I told him that payment before any work was done was not going to happen. He told me they'd been in business for 42 years. (So why should they need front money?) I told him I'd lived in the house for over 35 years - so we were almost even. He explained to me that some people refuse to pay. I'm sure that's true. I deal with it myself from time to time. But if he puts a fence on my property and I refuse to pay, he can slap a lien on my property. If I give him money and he fails to put a fence up, or puts up an inferior fence, I don't really have any recourse except to sue him (assuming I can find him) and get an unenforceable judgement. It looked to me like he's in a stronger position than I was. So I'm sticking to my guns on this one.

I think I'm going to have to go back to the drawing board on the fence. Or maybe the project can wait until fall when I won't need to worry so much about them damaging my flower beds.

Cats in Captivity

We waited a while after losing Heidi to see how Harry would take it. It was pretty obvious he missed her. He didn't have anyone to chase around the house, or around the yard. Of course he had us, but we thought he'd like to have another cat around the house.

We were thinking a young male would be best. I don't know if there is any scientific evidence to support it, but my experience is that tomcats tend to get along better with others while females are more "particular" about who they like. (Believe me. I had two female cats who only learned to tolerate each other in the last years of their lives and they lived to be 23 and 18. I don't want to go through that kind of drama again.)

Anyway, on our first trip to adopt a kitten we went to the SPCA. I should have called first. But I didn't and when we got there we were told that all the cats were at Petsmart in Frisco. I called there and was told that all the cats had been adopted. That's really good news for all the cats, but not good news for me. So, I started looking online.

I tried phoning the rescue organization that we went through when we adopted Harry. It was only three years ago and it's worked out beautifully. But apparently, you still have to fill out a new application and specify the cat(s) you are interested in because no one actually answers the phone.

I answered all the questions honestly, just as I did the time previously. I didn't expect to be turned down, but apparently each individual "foster mom" gets to decide who does and doesn't get to adopt a cat that is in her care. We were turned down because we said we would allow the cat to go outdoors, and this foster mom just wasn't having that. (The previous one told me she'd prefer we didn't let him go outside, but that since we'd never lost a cat to outdoor hazards, she was going to let me have Harry.)

Here's how it worked for us. When we first got Harry, he went out on a harness and leash so we could see how he was going to behave. We live on a corner. Would he bolt when a car drove past? What would he do when the neighbor's dog started barking? Would he come to me if I called him? He did not go outside unsupervised. He was with us for two years before he realized he could climb the fence. But he doesn't climb the fence (well at least not very often). I don't know if it's because he realizes that there's a dog on the other side or because there's enough for him to do in his own back yard.

Here is Harry's typical day: When he gets up in the morning, he likes to go outside and walk the perimeter of the fence. He takes his job of protecting us from intruders very seriously. After he's patrolled the perimeter, he comes in for his breakfast. After breakfast he likes to make sure nothing has invaded the garage. Then he has a snack. Then he has some trouble deciding where he'd like to be and what he wants to do. Inside? Outside? Eat? Nap? Sit on someone's lap? Chase birds? So many decisions! But when the sun starts to go down, Harry knows where he wants to be. On the back porch chasing bugs - unless it's cold, rainy or too windy. (Harry doesn't care much for cold rain, or wind.) We sit on the porch with him to encourage him and shower praise on him when he captures a moth. (Moths are a bit more challenging to catch than mayflies.) He recently caught a baby snake. He had great fun with that! (I'm not sure how that snake survived being tossed around like that, but Mark moved it to the other side of the fence while Harry wasn't looking, and if it has any sense, it won't come back inside our yard.) When it's time to go in, Harry comes in with us. When we go to bed, he goes upstairs and situates himself at the foot of the bed, although since Heidi's been gone, he prefers to be in between us. And then the next day, he's happy to do it all again.

Hunting. It's what cats do. It's what they're designed to do and they enjoy doing it. Harry is not dependent on the catch of the day for survival as a feral cat often is. But he still enjoys the hunt. He also enjoys playing with his stick toy. (A squeaky, feathered bird attached to a stick with a piece of string.) He especially appreciates that toy when it's raining outside and he's forced to stay indoors. But given a preference, he'd rather chase bugs, snakes, and field mice - outside. (Unless it's nap time.)

I'm reminded of "The Cat's Diary" - Day 183 of my captivity....

Harry lives with us. He is NOT our prisoner. There are a few things I'd like to say to the crazy cat ladies who will only agree to allow cats to be adopted by families who intend to imprison them but I don't think I'll say them here although I do wonder if they seriously want to help the cats find loving homes or if they have some other, stranger motivation that I can't even imagine. Maybe it's a power trip - who knows?

We were very fortunate that someone reminded us about Operation Kindness. That's where we found our Duchess Megan. They are okay with you letting the animal go outside as long as it's supervised. (A common sense policy.) Megan has not yet been allowed out and so far she has shown no interest in going out. She's only been with us for a week now and is still adjusting to her new surroundings and family. It's too soon to introduce the great outdoors, although as she and Harry bond their relationship, I'm sure she'll want to go where he goes. But for now we are content for her to remain inside.

High Pressure Tactics

I almost never answer the land line. It's there for me to make outbound calls. If you're calling it, you're almost certainly a telemarketer and I probably don't want to talk to you. (I can only assume that the "do not call" list has time limitations because I get way too many calls.) But every now and then I pick up that phone.

We are looking to replace the windows in our house. The current windows were put in sometime in the 80s. They were better than the original 1950 vintage windows that came with the house, but we can do better now. It's time for them to go. So when one of those pesky telemarketers called wanting to put me in touch with people who could help me with my home improvement project, I said okay.

A bit of background - having been a home inspector for the past 12 years, Mark has seen more windows than the average bear. And as a HUD consultant, he knows what windows should cost. His requirements are fairly simple - double-glazed, vinyl, and the price should include installation. On the other hand, I care about how they look. The color, whether or not they have grids. And of course, how much they cost.

But back to the phone - I only answered the phone when I felt like it, because I knew I would be getting calls from all sorts of people, and fortunately, whoever that middle-man was had a "made-up" email address for me, so if I didn't want to hear from them again, I didn't correct the email address.

Sears was first up. Their salesman advised me when he made the appointment that "both of us needed to be present for his presentation". Right. He arrived with his window demo kit and Mark was NOT at home. He seemed a bit disappointed but he showed me his wares and measured the windows. He gave me a written estimate that remains the high bidder at over $30K.

Another company, and truthfully I don't remember who it was, was giving me the same line of BS about how both of us needed to be home. I tried to explain that when I got estimates to replace the HVAC unit, no one insisted that both of us be home and that I didn't see the need for it on this occasion. It was funny because the young lady was being fed the answers to my questions/objections by her supervisor. I know because I could hear him tell her what to say and then she would say it. It got really funny when she said it was for the "client's protection". "Protection from what?" I asked. Apparently no one had ever asked that before because the answer was bordering on the nonsensical.
I suggested that the real reason they wanted us both there was so they could apply high pressure sales tactics and get us to sign a contract. But of course, they would never do ANYTHING like that. They did NOT employ high pressure tactics. Right. It was fairly high pressure just being on the phone with them.

There was another company that wanted us both to be there that I ended up making an appointment with. Mark was there when the salesman arrived but he'd barely started his pitch when Mark said he felt ill and excused himself. That guy lost his mind. He refused to continue his presentation (which I could care less about anyway. I only wanted to know if it met our criteria and how much it cost.) He proceeded to scold me for letting him drive for an hour and half only to have to reschedule. (Sorry, I don't get advance notice when Mark is going to be sick.) He also belittled my knowledge of housing in general. And then he implied that I didn't know what I was talking about when I said that contractors needed to be registered with the city in order to pull a permit in Celina. (He'd never heard of such a thing.) Clearly, he'd not done business in Celina before. He was clearly trying to impress me with his superior knowledge of home improvements. Funny thing is, this guy was old enough to know better. Just as well he never called to reschedule because I wouldn't have let him back in my house anyway.

But I guess it could be worse. Window salesmen in the UK are known as "double-glazing" salesmen and apparently they've gained quite a bit of notoriety there. Mark told me that he let one in his house once and ended up signing the contract just so the guy would shut up and leave. Of course, Mark called and canceled the contract the following day.

We still haven't made a decision on the windows. I've got a couple more companies I want to look at. But you can bet that if both of us need to be home in order to get an estimate, it won't be happening.

It's Official - We're Old!

St. Patrick's Day - party time! And we were in San Antonio! A party city. I can usually find something green to wear even if it's only my black socks with the bright green shamrocks. (Those socks will last forever because they only get worn one day a year.) But this year we were in our RV and I didn't really bring anything green - not even my shamrock socks. Poor planning on my part. So we planned to go downtown to buy some of those little shamrock antennae to wear. Festive without being over the top.

Mark had his seminar in the morning and when he got back we set off for downtown. I thought that the Riverwalk might be crowded because of St. Patrick's Day combined with spring break so we planned to eat lunch at the Mercado. More poor planning on my part. There was some kind of music festival going on at the Mercado. It was even more crowded than the Riverwalk, if such a thing can be imagined. The two restaurants worth eating at both had wait times of over an hour and a half.

I've never been a big fan of crowds. I'm not tall (I guess that makes me short) and all of the tall people breathe all of the air - none of the air gets down to my level. Not only do they take all the air, they stop without warning. They change direction without signalling. Sometimes they stop and head back into you in one move. One of them was holding his cigar in front of him like it was a flashlight. He probably ended up burning somebody - just glad it wasn't me. Then there was another guy walking with his drink extended out to his side and looking in the opposite direction from the direction he was walking. That probably didn't end well, either.

We got out of the crowd and headed toward the Riverwalk because we were starving. Getting food became more important than shamrock antennae, geckos, or music festivals. We stopped in to the Esquire Tavern and Grill for cheeseburgers. When we left, we had a decision to make. Go left or go right? Left would take us in the direction of the Museum Reach and The Pearl. Right would take us into the most commercialized section of the Riverwalk. In other words, crowds or no crowds.

We opted for no crowds even though the parade was getting ready to start. I think the parade was probably going to make several passes over the course of the evening. (Only in San Antonio do parade floats actually float.) There was very little foot traffic in the direction we were headed.
We walked all the way to The Pearl. La Gloria, the establishment closest to the boat landing was extremely crowded but that was okay, it was far too early for dinner. We walked another block and the area near the Culinary Institute was full of empty tables and benches where you could just sit down and enjoy the weather without being crowded. But since it was a long walk getting there, we didn't want to walk back. And since we'd eaten lunch so late, neither of us wanted to eat dinner, at least not at that time.

Bottom line? On St. Patrick's Day, a major party time in a major party town, we were at home by 7 pm. We missed the parade, we had no shamrock antennae, no corned beef and cabbage, we did not see the Riverwalk water turn green, no Riverdance, absolutely no shenanigans - and we didn't care. We are officially old.

A Special Day

Let's see. Where was I forty-eight years ago? Oh yeah, St. Thomas Hospital in Akron. Giving birth to my only child.

I remember preparing fish with a tomato-based sauce for dinner the night before. I was dreaming about fish when I went into labor. And for the record, I am unable to eat fish with a tomato-based sauce to this day.

We left for the hospital in the middle of the night. It seems I wasn't as ready to be a mom as I thought I was and they made me walk up and down the hall for what seemed like hours. I remember that swiss dot green and yellow quilted robe that I was wearing like it was last week. Thankfully there are no photographs of it - all the pictures of it are in my mind.

Natural childbirth was just coming into vogue, and my doctor wasn't necessarily a believer but they did wait until the very last minute to give me anything for the pain. What I remember is that my husband left the room the first time I grimaced. Wimp! He left waaaay before it got serious.

Early that morning, my husband called my mother and his mother to tell them we were at the hospital and that they would be grandmothers soon - a first for both of them. In all the excitement, he forgot to tell them which hospital and Akron had more than one. And they couldn't call him back because there were no cell phones, no answering machines, and no way for them to find out where we were until he got around to calling back with the news that we had a boy which was over five hours after the first call.

My baby was perfect. He looked just like a porcelain doll. I still remember the woman I shared the semi-private room with remarking on what a beautiful white baby I had. She thought hers looked a bit purple but it wasn't her first and she said her other one had been a bit purple, too. But mine looked like a porcelain doll.

I also remember that they gave me something to help me sleep. What it really did was help me hallucinate. It was horrible. I was convinced that they had done something with my baby and I couldn't be quieted until they had taken me to the nursery to show me that my baby was fine.

After I calmed down I wanted to talk to my husband. I phoned home. (Remember there were no cell phones or answering machines.) I never got an answer, which only upset me again. I found out the following day that he and his cousin had gone to a place called The Fez for a celebratory drink. And much to their surprise, it was a gay bar.

Being a mom has been great. And it did get easier after the first 25 years.

Saying Goodbye to Heidi

The decision to euthanize a beloved pet is never easy. But this one was the hardest. In fact, we made the decision at least three times and pulled back from it. We kept hoping that the situation would improve. It took an hour long conversation with the vet for me to come to the conclusion that not only would the situation not improve, it would deteriorate over the coming months.

Heidi had Exocrine Pancreatic Insufficiency. I now know more about it than I ever wanted to know. I know that even though it's rare, it probably isn't as rare as we think because the diagnosis is often missed.

While it's been a serious struggle over the past six to eight months, I suspect she may have had the condition far longer. Thinking back to when we first adopted Harry as a kitten (nearly three years ago), Heidi was a healthy 11 or 12 year old adult cat. We often called her "Tubbykins" because she'd become a bit pudgy. She started losing weight shortly after Harry arrived. Not a great deal of weight but "tubby" no longer described her. We just thought she'd lost some weight because she was chasing after a kitten. More exercise! All good! The idea that she might be ill never crossed our minds.

Then came the camping trip two years ago where Heidi decided to go back to being a feral cat. To this day I don't know how she opened the camper door. She lived rough for a week in North Little Rock before we found her and brought her home. We had her checked out by a vet in Arkansas before bringing her home and she'd lost a few pounds but it could be explained by the fact that she didn't have a steady, reliable source of food and had to rely on her hunting abilities. (She was a good hunter, but she was better when she was younger and quicker.) Again, she'd been checked out and we had no idea she might be ill.

But she never gained that weight back. She looked like she might be losing more but only going to the vet once a year, it was hard to say. Other than the fact that she seemed to be losing weight, she looked quite healthy. Her coat looked good and her eyes were bright and she behaved normally.

Then last July she wasn't well. Cats frequently "hide" when they don't feel well and Heidi was hiding under a table in the spare room. It turns out she had a bladder infection. After the round of antibiotics, she was feeling much better but seemed to be having frequent diarrhea. I got some feline probiotics to give her but they didn't seem to help. 

She had a round of steroids. I know that we struggled with finding a diagnosis. All sorts of blood, urine and fecal tests were turning up nothing. We started experimenting with different foods. The weight loss continued.

Without getting overly graphic, let's just say that the diarrhea problem reached epic proportions. It was taking both of us hours to clean up the mess. The vet was in unfamiliar territory, as well. The elimination of just about everything else left us with the exocrine pancreatic insufficiency diagnosis. I read every thing I could find about it. It seems that roughly 60% of cats respond well to the treatment and about 10% don't respond at all. The rest were somewhere in the middle.

Heidi was somewhere in that group that didn't respond well. She continued to lose weight even though she was eating like a horse. She would be starving to death in the morning because she just wasn't getting the nutrition she needed from her food. She was on a special prescription diet (roughly three times the price of grocery store cat food) and two of her three meals had an enzyme powder mixed in. She didn't much like it, but it was critical for her to have it. She wasn't able to properly digest her food without it. She preferred the one meal where she got to have the probiotic powder mixed in instead of the enzyme powder. (A one month supply of the probiotics cost about $30 and a one month supply of the enzyme powder cost about $100.) But the real challenge with all of this was keeping her from eating Harry's food. And that wasn't easy. Being the food monitor was a serious job. Heidi was very sneaky and would take any opportunity to dip her nose into Harry's bowl if Harry walked away. And very frequently, the phone would ring and I would have to go into the office and by the time I got back she had polished off Harry's food. This would usually result in what came to be known as a "blow out" poo.

In the past when we traveled, Heidi would stay with friends. She'd been doing that all her life and felt as much at home with Alex and Jeannette as she did with us. (In fact, I think she liked them better until they got a dog.) But given her condition, I couldn't ask them to look after her while we were gone. Especially since in addition to their two cats and dog, they were also looking after a toddler. There was no time to be food monitor and no time to clean up the resulting blow-out if Heidi ate the wrong food.

The only option was to board her with the vet while we were away. I know they do their best there and get the cats out to interact with them. But I know this about Heidi - she wasn't big on that type of interaction. She saw herself as your equal. That meant you didn't pick her up and hold her. She would sit beside you but she didn't like to sit on your lap. (Harry, on the other hand loves to be on someone's lap.) There were no windows there for her to look out of and I know she hated going there. But it did solve the food monitor problem. She ate exactly what she was supposed to eat and there was no chance that she was going to get into another cat's food. But sadly, she had the blow-out poo anyway - at least once or twice a week.

We knew that this was a chronic condition and that she would be on the enzymes and probiotics for the rest of her life. I was okay with that. But I wasn't okay with boarding her when we were away. I'd hoped that she would respond to the treatment and stabilize enough to the point where even if she did sneak a bit of Harry's food, it wouldn't be disastrous.

But that's not what happened. She continued to lose weight and the disasters continued to happen and sometimes they happened even when we knew she hadn't eaten anything she shouldn't have. (They also happened while she was at the vet with her food intake carefully monitored.) She stopped going outside except for very short periods and she wasn't keeping up with her grooming like she used to do. And I was faced with boarding her for another ten days.

I was certain that we had done and were doing everything that could be done and her situation would only deteriorate. It would never improve. I wanted to hope that she would improve but was finally forced to accept that she would continue to waste away. It was so hard to reconcile that with the fact that she still wanted to be with us - still wanted her ears rubbed. And we were both with her at the end - rubbing her little ears until she slept.

The Perils of Domestic Air Travel

I don't think it's a big secret that I hate American Airlines. But for our trip to New York I was using air miles, American air miles. And when you're using air miles, you're lucky if you can fly direct one way. You are certainly  not going to fly direct both ways, unless perhaps you want to stay for longer than a month. Another option for getting a direct flight is using double the air miles required for the trip. I personally don't like that option. It's like saying "Oh yes! Let me pay double the price for that!" That's just not something you're going to hear me say.

So our flight to New York was direct from Dallas to LaGuardia and our flight home was from New York JFK to Baltimore and then Baltimore to Dallas. Even though our flight wasn't until 4:00 we went to the airport around noon - because once you check out of the hotel, there's just no place else to go with your baggage. (Yes, you can leave your bags at the hotel in their storage area, and we've done that on occasion but it didn't seem like a good option at the time because you never know how long it will take to get to the airport.) It was okay. Mark likes to be early. In addition to not knowing how long it might to get to the airport, you never know how long it might take you to get through security and there were plenty of choices for food and drink.

We got suspicious when an email came through about 1 pm that told us that our flight "might" be affected by a winter storm and that we should consider changing our plans. I went to the American Airlines customer service desk (I honestly don't know why they call it that) to try to make other arrangements to get to Dallas. I was told that the direct flight to Dallas was oversold but that she would put us on the standby list. Other than that, my best bet was to hope that my flight to Baltimore left on time. It was still listed as "on time" for 4 pm and the Dallas flight was scheduled for 5:30 pm.

I kept looking at the weather radar. There was rain in NYC and snow in Pittsburgh. Rain in Washington DC and Baltimore. I monitored the weather radar every half hour or so because that snow in Pittsburgh was inching its way toward the eastern seaboard but when we went to the gate a bit after 3 pm it still looked okay.

To avoid making a long story even longer (and boring) let's just say that the flight was delayed for 30 minutes before it started boarding. But because I cancelled that credit card that guaranteed us Group 1 boarding, we were in Group 8. (That's last.) The entire plane had been boarded except for Group 8 and we were just about to go through the jetway when they stopped us. We didn't get to board. And everyone who had boarded were made to get off. We all stood and watched as the crew for "our" plane was reassigned.

Then they flashed it on the board - Canceled. Due to weather. Seriously? They don't have to pay for your hotel or other expenses if it's due to weather. (More on this in a moment.) In the meantime, the people at the gate would help us get rerouted. The same story "customer service" had given me earlier -the flight to Dallas was full but they could put us on the standby list. I told them we were already on the standby list. She looked and told me that we were not. Really? Why did the other woman tell me she'd put us on the list when clearly, she didn't? Why do some people feel it's necessary to lie when the truth will do just as well? Although in truth, being on the standby list on an oversold flight is an exercise in futility.

I wanted to go home. I wanted to go home on Saturday because I only packed enough medication for the days we were going to be gone. I'd assumed I'd be home Saturday night.

The next flight to Baltimore wouldn't be until 4 pm on Sunday afternoon. Although, if we wanted to go back to LaGuardia we could go to Baltimore as early as 7 am. We didn't really care about going to Baltimore. Dallas was where we wanted to go. She offered Pittsburgh but again not until Sunday afternoon. Remember that I'd been watching the weather radar all day long. Why on earth would I want to take a chance on getting in and out of Pittsburgh? I knew it had been snowing there for hours. As it turns out, she couldn't route us through any other city.

The best choice was becoming obvious. The options for going back to LaGuardia all included early morning flights to cities where it had been snowing all day and night and hoping to get a flight out to Dallas later in the day. The options leaving JFK were Pittsburgh around 3 and hope to get out of Pittsburgh to Dallas. Baltimore at 4 hoping to get out to Dallas OR direct to Dallas at 5:30. Guess what we picked? Somehow or another, they could now accommodate us on the direct flight home even though this wasn't an option when we booked the ticket in the first place. Do you see why American Airlines disgusts me?

Now back to the weather issue. No other flights were cancelled. It had been snowing in Pittsburgh for hours but that flight had gone. The airports in Baltimore and Washington DC are less than 50 miles apart and the flight to Washington DC left AFTER the canceled flight to Baltimore. The Delta flight to Baltimore which was scheduled to leave after the canceled AA flight left on time. (It wouldn't have done any good for us to take that one because we would have likely missed the connecting flight to Dallas - although I was informed later that even though it was scheduled to arrive around 9:30 it didn't actually get in until close to midnight.) Does American want me to believe that the weather in Washington DC is significantly different from the weather in Baltimore when they are about 50 miles apart? Or maybe they'd prefer I believe that Delta airlines has better planes and better pilots so they are able to fly in weather that grounds AA, although it seems their planes and pilots can go to Pittsburgh where it had been snowing for hours longer than it had been snowing in Baltimore.

Just not buying what they're trying to sell. They canceled it for reasons that had nothing to do with weather but didn't want to say so because then they'd have to reimburse the displaced passengers for their expenses associated with the cancellation. With hotel, additional meals, and taxis it probably cost us an extra $300. Not to mention the lost day. And aggravation and stress.

And to top it off, when we checked in for our flight the following day, they tried to charge us for the baggage again. Good thing I still had the receipt in my handbag. After we were back home, safe and sound (and with all our baggage) I got an email from American Airlines advising me to let them know where to deliver my "lost" baggage. Nothing to worry about folks! They are right on top of it!

We may be through with domestic air travel...