Saturday, August 23, 2014

CSI Sleep Rotations
The trip back from Denver to New York did not go badly. Stephen drove us to Denver the night before and took us out for Indian food and ice cream and a quick tour of tattooed, hairy, intellectual and drunken hipsters in their natural, mountainous element. T got a huge cone of fluffernutter and salted butterscotch. F got brown bread and molasses and I got blueberry oreo. It was a sugar high that could last us until our next trip to America. You see, Meagan and Stephen used to live in Denver right before we arrived in Carbondale and their house which is still on the market is quirky and cool with a huge yard and with an extra house for guests, right on the property. I didn't  sleep that night because I'm a nervous flier, but that's neither here nor there.

The worst part of the travel day was that poor T got really patted down at the super high security (who knew?!) airport because we couldn't put her insulin pump through the x-ray machine without damaging it. The exam was so invasive that the female agent apologized profusely to her afterwards. At least the flight and the rest of it was fairly on time.  Of course, after all that, we were dreading going through the control point again in New York. But magically, the wheelchair pusher guy -- and yeah, her foot was totally healed, but we opted for the wheelchair pushers anyway because they are speedy quick and we didn't have official word yet that she was healed -- got us through to the next gate without having to go through security at all. We waited around for three hours and then got on the next flight.

 After the first hour I took a quarter of a sleeping pill and got very woozy and tired. At my most tired moment, T decided she had to go to the restroom and then the flight attendants  served the noisiest dinner service ever known to air travel.

 I had one more window of time in which to try to sleep after the dinner service, but T couldn't see that I was almost asleep and she needed help pushing her chair back. One second later she was bent over in two and very mad about it. I switched places with F so that he could be next to her and I took the aisle. Three seconds later my moment was gone forever and she was fast asleep on his lap. I then got to watch T sleep for the next four hours, interspersed with the comic musings of Dane Cook which were playing on the little screen on the back of the chair. F was nailed in place by his tailbone, so whenever I got bored,  I looked over to see what grimace face he was wearing for that hour of the flight.

The good part was that our bags were there when we arrived in Pisa and the team of people that I had written good reviews about were there to greet us, being all smiley and wondering what the heck had happened to our family because we looked so wrecked upon reentry. On the upside -- they were thrilled with the reviews, so now we have friends at the Pisa airport for life. 

Something weird happens when the Tuscan sun hits your eyes in the morning and we all then got to unpacking and cleaning and the next thing you know we hadn't slept for a full forty eight hours.
P.S. One day I will write this blog in prison for never attributing the images I steal from the internet, but with this little sleep . . .

The New York family left the house fairly clean. You could see that they had made an effort. Unfortunately, we came to discover that the beatles we had got ridden of before the trip had given birth in the bathroom before we left. So guess what -- Baby Beatles! F found the nest and got out the hot steam machine and sealed the wall of the shower with cement. Unfortunatley in his sleep deprived haze he left the bathroom door open while he did it, and sprayed the little guys all over the house. So last night I thought I could finally sleep in peace and woke up to see one of the baby buggers twitching at me in the corner of my bedroom.

Yeah, I wish.
The next night we slept for fourteen hours in a row. I woke up at three in the afternoon, just one hour before my new English student was due to arrive. She is a lovely girl who is the daughter of the coworker of my ex-fitness club client who works in a nearby shoe store. She has an oral exam in two weeks time. Unfortunately, while she has skills in the reading and writing department, her spoken English needs a lot of work. She is going to come to me five days a week!

So far the pattern is we sleep from like midnight to 4 AM and from 6 AM to 1 PM. Last nigt, after four years of waiting, we got invited to a dinner by our friends at Fattoria Colleverde. It was not an invitation we could turn down. We were in fine shape, as you can well imagine.


Who needs sleep??


Knock - knock, T's not home.
CSI, I tell you.

(The Americans are a little weird, right?)

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