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Posts Tagged ‘airplane shots’

Early Take-Off

Slice Of The Mississippi

Rivers & Wings


Opposing Forces


Mighty Susquehanna

Slice Of The Susquehanna

Shadow Shifting


It’s almost time to fly home. I don’t travel far enough get jet lag like ybonesy. But I do suffer from bothersome motion sickness. I’ve had it since I was a little girl, and found out about it when we would do winding family trips from the Pine Barrens of Georgia to the Great Smokies of Tennessee. I learned to keep my eyes on the horizon, and never to read or look at maps while in motion. Fresh air helps, too, along with sitting in the front of the vehicle or resting your head against a seat back.

These days I’m more likely to be in the driver’s seat (even though I have a terrible sense of direction) and most times I am flying cross country to visit family or friends. This morning I drove the 212 miles round trip to Philadelphia with my brother for his transplant check-in. (Frankenbelly 3 has zipped his recovery into the fast lane! November 18th marks 1 month.) Saturday we shared family stories and celebrated early Thanksgiving with relatives who have driven the 10 hours from South Carolina to Pennsylvania more than six times this year to be closer to family.

Travel is a gift. Travel can wear you out. And make you a little dizzy. When I arrived in Pennsylvania last week, the day before my mother’s birthday, she handed me a book on home remedies and pointed to the section on motion sickness. “See if this helps,” she said. The ingredients are pure and simple: pack the ginger, chew on some cloves.

According to Readers Digest Kitchen Cabinet Cures — 1,001 Homemade Remedies For Your Health, the same chemical compounds that give ginger its zing—gingerol and shogaol—reduce intestinal contractions, neutralize digestive acids, and quell activity in the brain’s “vomiting center.” If you eat 1/2 teaspoon of chopped, fresh ginger every 15 minutes for one hour before traveling, mix a pinch of powdered ginger in water, drink ginger tea, or nibble pieces of candied ginger, you should be good to go.

Grinding cloves between the teeth also helps. But if you’re looking for non-food related remedies, try Sea-Bands, knitted elastic wrist bands which operate by applying pressure on the Nei Kuan (P6) acupressure point on each wrist by means of a plastic stud. Liz introduced me to them a few years ago and I swear by them for both car and planes. Here’s a wrap up of other practical suggestions for motion sickness in the Readers Digest book:


On Planes:

  • Eat low-cal snacks & light meals 24 hours before departure
  • Choose a seat in the front of the plane or by the wing
  • Direct the air vent above the seat toward your face

In Cars:

  • Sit in the front seat
  • Keep your eyes on the horizon
  • Don’t read or look at maps
  • Keep your head still by resting it against the seat back
  • Turn air vents toward your face

On Boats:

  • Ask for cabin on the upper deck or near front of the ship
  • When on deck, keep eyes firmly fixed on horizon or land

If the cloves and ginger don’t work, one last home remedy listed for motion sickness is warm lemon-aid. Squeeze one whole lemon into a cup sweetened with a teaspoon of honey. Keep the drink in a warm thermos while traveling. And I’d add the Sea-Bands to every category. The acupressure works!


-posted on red Ravine, Tuesday, November 16th, 2010 — all photos © 2010 by QuoinMonkey — with thanks to my family who have made this week in motion a joy and a pleasure

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Yellow, somewhere over Minneapolis / St. Paul, Minnesota, October 2009, all photos © 2009 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.



gassing up the plane
yellow sun on horizon
I’m running on fumes

restless night owl
wings clipped over the Midwest
sleeping in mid-air

voicemail remains full
apologies to callers
delayed housekeeping



wings bobbing in sun
to avoid motion sickness
touch wrist pressure points

Northwest bites the dust
D-E-L-T-A imprint on cookie
“Skymiles with Biscoff”

ankles and joints swell
somewhere over Ohio
depressurizing

smoldering remnants
of the way it used to be
cause a lot of pain



nothing can contain
my rattling restless spirit
banging in the night

Liz rises at 5
and defrags my Toshiba
gift from the heavens

BWI
destination Baltimore
home of Ace of Cakes

high altitude yawns
saturate before using
low oxygen lungs



overweight luggage
travels with Baggage Angels
checks and balances

strange things worry me
laundry, shoes, and broken glass
where is my Space pen?

clouds dance on wing tips
full of milk and sky cookies –
I’m hungry to write


opening the door
family collectibles
hide in my closet

in for a landing
sun shines over Baltimore
gloomy clouds below


______________________

Note: All is well on my travels. Wrote these haiku on the plane yesterday morning. So much has happened since I arrived in Pennsylvania. Feels like I’ve been gone a week. My sister made sliced pork with peach glaze, mashed potatoes, green beans, and Southern banana pudding. My mother made chili, grits, and took me shopping for Fall outfits. My brother and Liz helped me out with a small glitch in the BlackBerry modem. All fixed now.

Tomorrow morning we start the 10-12 hour drive down to Georgia. Will try to check in as we roll over the Mason-Dixon line. We will travel through quite a few states before hitting the Savannah River. Will try to keep in touch. Writing and photography seem like the right things to be doing. Grateful for the opportunity. More as I know it. Time, time, time, time, time.

And the New Moon. New beginnings. Some call October’s Full Moon the Blood Moon. Prepare for the cold dark months ahead. Honor your ancestors. Let go of what is unnecessary. The veil between the worlds is thin.


-posted on red Ravine, Sunday, October 18th, 2009

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Somewhere Over Milwaukee, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.

Somewhere Over Milwaukee, flying home from a writing retreat, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.





Blurred Boundaries, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved. From The Air, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved. Somewhere Over Milwaukee, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.Winding, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.




“That looks like Louise Erdrich?” I said, shuffling toward the boarding area of the DC-9 parked on the runway. Northwest Flight 792 out of Milwaukee was about to depart. Three days earlier on our flight from Minneapolis, Teri was stopped in security by a stern, expressionless woman with black, straight hair running down her back.

“What’s going on?” I had asked, sliding my laptop into a slingpack and leaning down to slip on my Lands’ End moccasins. Teri turned to me with a blank look. “It’s the soup,” she said. “The soup?” I laughed.

She had been stopped for carrying a blue ice pack in a small rectangular thermos, housing packages of Minnesota wild rice soup. Bob was bringing ribs from Missouri. We chuckled, wondering if they’d made it through the luggage scan.

“Come with me,” the security guard said to Teri. You need to go back through security.” I blindly followed. One step past the yellow striped police line, I realized my mistake. “Wait, can’t I wait here?” I asked the guard. “Too late,” she said.

I followed Teri, we checked our bags, and looped back through security, twice. Then we sprinted to Gate C3, pausing only long enough to realize we were supposed to be at Gate C7. We were two of the last to board the plane.

By comparison, the Milwaukee check-in had been effortless. No wild rice soup incidents. No blue ice packs filled with dangerous liquids. But Teri did have her backpack searched again. This time it was toothpaste. Finally we were shuffling toward the packed plane bound for Minneapolis.

“Yeah, isn’t that Louise Erdrich?” I asked again.

“What? Where…” Teri said, turning her head in the direction I was staring. “That is Louise Erdrich.”




Topsy-Turvy, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved. Edges, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.Curves, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved. Tip To Toe, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.

Blurred Boundaries, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved. From The Air, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved. Somewhere Over Milwaukee, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.Winding, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.




We played it cool. But could barely contain our excitement. A second before, we had been embroiled in a conversation about writers. And we had talked about Louise among the four of us Saturday night, during a weekend writing retreat at a cabin on Lake Michigan.

Jude mentioned that Louise was coming to Wisconsin to talk about her new book, The Plague of Doves. That spawned a conversation about a night last winter, when Teri, Liz, and I went to see Louise Erdrich and her two sisters, Heid and Lise, at the Minneapolis Central Library. They were appearing together for a local program on writers, Talk of the Stacks.

All three Erdrich sisters are writers. After the Friends of the Library book discussion, we had them sign our books, and Liz took a few photographs, including family shots that she agreed to email to Heid.

That was February. Now it was May — two days earlier, we had talked in casual conversation about our favorite Louise Erdrich books. And just like that, Poof! — she was sitting 15 feet from us at the airport in Milwaukee. Most people did not recognize her.

“Should we say something?” Teri asked.

“Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe she wants to be anonymous,” I said, throwing another glance toward Louise. She wore frameless glasses, a long brown skirt, and a print blazer. When you run into a well-known writer in public, how do you know the respectful thing to do? Would the writer want you to acknowledge her work, or respect her privacy. What would my published writing friends want. What would I want?

We scanned our boarding passes and headed to our seats. We thought she’d fly First Class. But then, we didn’t even know if she was on the same plane. We were quietly surprised a few minutes later when Louise elegantly walked down the aisle with her leather briefcase. She stopped while a young man in the row across from us almost knocked her over while slinging his carry-on luggage up to the top rack.

After one more look over our shoulders, we buckled our seat belts and settled in. Louise sat down in the opposite aisle, three rows from the back of the plane. It was inspiring be in the company of a famous writer known for her craft. It felt auspicious that she was on the same flight.

“Well, at least if we go down, it will be with one of Minnesota’s most famous writers,” I quipped. “And after a great writing retreat in Wisconsin.” In some twisted way, a moment of spontaneous, dark humor made sense to me. I never board a plane without saying my prayers.




Topsy-Turvy, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved. Edges, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.Curves, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved. Tip To Toe, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.

Blurred Boundaries, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved. From The Air, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved. Somewhere Over Milwaukee, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.Winding, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.




Tired from the weekend, I stared out the window. The curves of Lake Michigan receded into the distance. I thought about Maurine’s funeral pyre on the beach Sunday night. I thought about how the wet sand stuck to my feet the morning I wrote haiku on the beach. I thought about literature, about writing. I thought about Louise Erdrich. She was carrying a CBS bag. Was she on book tour? Had she been in Chicago? New York?

How do you stay grounded, traveling all over the country promoting a new book. I remembered something Ann Patchett said when I saw her speak last year at the Fitzgerald – when you go on book tour, prepare to talk about the last book you wrote. It’s the one people have most likely read.

Teri struck up a conversation with the law student in the seat beside her. He was from Washington, D.C. They exchanged stories throughout the flight. He talked about his travels; she told him about the writing retreat, and that Louise Erdrich was on the same plane. Smiling, I looked down at Lake Michigan and the skyline of Milwaukee.

We rose to cruising altitude, the wings swooped, the plane tipped. We were heading for a bank of clouds with an open slice of light. I quickly unstrapped the Canon from my backpack under the seat, and clicked off a few shots.

The law student dropped his cell phone under his seat. It slid back toward me, resting under my pack. Camera in hand, I pushed it up under Teri’s seat with my right foot. “It’s under your seat now,” I laughed. “Can you reach it?”

She leaned down to pick it up. The glacial lake faded into darkening rain clouds. I focused on the rays of light between them. And wrote a haiku.





Openings, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.

                Openings, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, all photos © 2008
                by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.






at the city’s feet
Lake Michigan from the air
changing perspectives






Topsy-Turvy, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved. Edges, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.Curves, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved. Tip To Toe, May 2008, Milwaukee, Wisconsin, photo © 2008 by QuoinMonkey. All rights reserved.




Post Script:   Teri and I bumped into Louise Erdrich again at the MSP baggage carousel. She was engaged in conversation with a woman she seemed happy to see.  We wanted to mention how much we enjoyed her talk with Heid and Lise. But the timing wasn’t right.

Liz met us at the curb with a big smile on her face. I hugged her, threw my luggage into the backseat, and mentioned that Louise Erdrich was standing at the baggage claim. “Really?” she said, peering through the sliding doors. Teri hopped inside the Saturn and we headed to Hiawatha Joe’s for debriefing and iced tea.

I decided it’s enough to send good thoughts. Though I know her books, Louise Erdrich is a stranger to me. Perhaps the greatest gift was to leave her to a peaceful trip in relative anonymity.



-posted on red Ravine, Thursday, May 22nd, 2008

-related to posts: Flying With Strangers & Other Anomalies, Louise Erdrich – No Love for “Fighting Sioux”

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Somewhere over Arizona, the flight home from California, photo (not taken with my cell phone camera) © 2008 by ybonesy. All rights reserved.






how come the return
is shorter than departure?
finally, exhaling







-related to post: haiku (one-a-day)

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We buckled in Colby Jack.
(Monkey also came.
So did Wally the Platypus.)




We saw snow on the mountains.
(But where we were going,
there was no snow.)





It was down there somewhere.
Underneath all the smog.

   



Finally, we could see something.
Ah, yes, an airport parking lot.





We got our Ford Escape.
Look, the underside of a plane!





We drove our car to our hotel.
(Such a lovely place…such a lovely place.
Such a lovely face…such a lovely face.)





Threw down our bags and hit Muscle Beach.
But instead of showing our biceps,
we hung upside down.






Happy happy.
Spring Break for all!

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I get up at 4:10 am, the latest possible time I can rise and get dressed, make a cup of coffee, brush my teeth, warm the frost off the car, and still make it to the airport 45 minutes before my 6 o’clock flight.

The plane is almost empty. I sit alone on row 12, over the wing. Something about soaring west, away from the sunrise yet still into the light, away from freezing cold into a temperate environ — makes getting up that early all worthwhile.

We reach cruising altitude. On the tray table in front of me are:

  • pens and doodling journal
  • writing notebook
  • cell phone on airplane mode
  • coffee and cream in a styrofoam cup
  • plastic glass with tomato juice and ice

Plane acoustics are like large restaurant acoustics. A din — combination of the pressurized cabin air, the murmur of men talking a few rows back, the jets. It is perfect white noise.

I dread trips that contain any of the following: multiple stops, change of planes, crowded coach seats, more than two hours. But a hop in a near-empty plane from Albuquerque to Phoenix is perfect.

Even the stale plane smell is absent. Even the bumps are forgiven. Airline attendants are just the right amount of attentive when the passenger load is light. Everyone leaves everyone else alone.

The moon is still out as we bank over the sprawling city. I see it hanging just above the tip of the wing.

I am self-sufficient. I have everything I need in my leather case and rollaway bag. The plane empties quickly. Walking through the airport, I am still protected in my bubble. Strangers traveling don’t make eye contact.

In the three hours since leaving my home and driving my rental car to the exit booth, I have said only five words:

  • “Coffee, four creams”
  • “Thanks”
  • “Ba-bye”


Certain plane rides are so ordinary, they are special.


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I’ve been here before.
Said to live for hundreds of years.
Yet, you need agua to live, and where is theirs?
More beautiful in mythology than in person.
Although, the new Rental Car Center is like a museum.
I wonder if Dumbledore knows where I am (was).


Road Warrior Mystery

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-My Wednesday morning direct flight to PHX left ABQ at 7:45 am.
-My direct flight left PHX the same day and returned to ABQ at 4:05 pm.
-How many hours total did I spend in PHX on Wednesday?




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I spent much of today on planes and in airports trying to get back home from a short trip. I was in transit longer than the time I spent at my destination.

It was dark and bumpy flying into Albuquerque tonight, but it gave me peace of mind knowing el Rio Grande was below me. (The photo is from last week’s daytime flight.)

Mighty Big River, all rights reserved, ybonesy 2007

-from Topic post, A Place To Stand.

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It’s so brown, ybonesy 2007

-Related to Leaving Portland From Seat 21A.

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Folks, if you look out the right side of the plane…, ybonesy 2007

-Related to Arriving Albuquerque From Seat 21A.

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