There were 4 of us: our instructor and 3 students in a Cessna 172.
A couple of us were working on our instrument ratings, the 3rd student was a senior, building hours in preparation for his commercial test.
We got off to a little bit of a rough start...our first landing was an <ILS approach> in a driving rainstorm at Chicago Midway.
Went pretty well until an engine out halfway down final.
It's unnerving to see the prop standing still outside your windshield...
...when it should be spinning at 1500 rpm or so.
Much to our collective relief, a turn of the key in the ignition got it going again, and thus we didn't literally drop in on someone for dinner below us.
After that heart stopping incident, everything else was small potatoes, and we eventually crossed the fruited plains of Iowa and Nebraska...
...en route to the majestic mountains of Colorado then Utah.
We chose Utah as our turnaround point because our instructor's sister was married to a missionary who was ministering there.
Together they ran a Christian radio station, held Bible studies, hosted summer VBS events and practiced lifestyle evangelism, all in an effort to share the good news of Jesus Christ with as many Utahns as possible.
It was inspiring to see people who valued the eternal well being of others more than their own material wealth in this world.
After a day or two it was time to go, and I flew the second leg from Arizona to Texas on an <IFR flight plan>.
It was during this flight that I had a life changing experience.
When you're in true IFR conditions, you cannot see the horizon outside the cockpit...
...it's just fog and clouds and rain.
That may not seem like a big deal, but hearken back to <The Day The Music Died> for context (scroll to the bottom).
The truth is, without all the visual cues outside the cockpit - the horizon, the earth below, sky above - you have no way of telling your physical orientation.
You may doubt it if you've never experienced it, but any pilot who's flown in IFR conditions will say the same.
And halfway between Tucson and Abilene I got "the leans": I became convinced we were in a steady climb to the left.
That's how my body felt, and so naturally I wanted to push the yoke forward and turn it to the right so we'd stop climbing and fly straight.
Only problem was my attitude indicator...
...told me we were flying straight and level.
But I definitely didn't feel like we were straight and level - as far as I was concerned we were climbing to the left.
So...decision time: what to do?
Do I go with my feelings, or trust my instruments?
I and the occupants of our Cessna 172 all survived that flight and eventually made it back home in one piece, so you know the answer to that:
I ignored my feelings and trusted my instruments.
It wasn't easy and I had to constantly fight off the urge to "course correct" which - had I done so - would have spelled disaster for all of us.
Eventually my undependable feelings subsided, realigned with reality, and the last hour or so of our flight into Abilene passed without incident.
And you know what?
It's the exact same way in life: you can either trust your feelings, or you can bet your life on your "instruments", God's Word.
Consequently we decided to have gate enclosures installed on the 2 stairways from the lower patio/yard to our back patio:
Amazingly, they did so on a frozen day during a snowstorm, and guaranteed them to be solid and secure come spring and summer.
Today we found out they work as advertised; both huskies showed up here again, only this time were unable to gain access to our back patio.
We contacted animal control - again - but honestly expect nothing to be done about it.
Our original plan when we bought this place was to fix it up, enjoy living in our beautiful mid century modern classic...
...and then sell after 10 years or so.
This is year 8, and we may bump that schedule up by a year or two.
We've been kicking it around for awhile now, feeling like our next place might be an American 4 Square, which we'd decorate in art deco style.
If we do, we'll probably move somewhere other than a suburban neighborhood so our quality of life is not so tightly tied to folks living around us.
Time will tell...
the parent's lament |
cue the Jaws theme |
let us pray that is in fact the case...this man should never be in charge of anything more impactful than tying his shoes |
that's not "snow", it's "lake effect". see the difference? |
they could raise all the money they need if they raffled off tickets to Californians for the chance to do this |
and that was the last meme he ever created as a married man |
Apparently today kicks off the start of a "Polar Vortex" event here in West Michigan...
In my younger days I lived in a mill town in northern Maine...average snowfall around 220 inches and temps regularly fell below zero from December through March.
Back then cold weather wasn't news.
<To Build A Fire> was schoolboy reading...
...and no one wanted to end up like Jack London's nameless unfortunate.
A cold snap didn't merit a special sobriquet, nor ominous sounding forecasts delivered in funereal tones by stern faced meteorologists.
We called it "winter", and anyone with functioning gray matter between their ears knew you should dress for it or else stay inside.
Of course, that was before we put warning labels on tooth paste and college students needed <legos, milk and cookies and coloring books> to comfort them when things didn't go their way.
My oh my, how things have changed.
Stay warm, mcm fans...