a view from the laundry pile…

…it's all about perspective.

A trip to Sequim

on September 10, 2012

Fred and I didn’t quite make it to the annual Hot Air Balloon Festival in Sequim. In fact, we couldn’t find the balloons, at all. We knew they were there, somewhere, but must have missed them (seriously, where do you hide a hot air balloon?). But, since we’d driven all the way there, we didn’t see any reason not to enjoy what we did find.

We stopped at the airport, where the balloons  were supposed to take off from, and took a peek around. As we were looking at this very cool, old, restored airplane (it even had fabric wings!), a nice elderly gentleman came up and asked Fred if he wanted to buy it. Of course Fred’s eyes lit up and he said he would love to if we could afford it (which we cannot, the scowl on my face reminded him) but they got to talking about it, anyway. After a few “oooh, I dunno’s” from the gentleman, he finally confessed that it wasn’t actually his plane to sell. He was just trying to see what he could get for it. We all had a good laugh at that one. After a bit more chatting, and a little bit of coaxing on my part, he told us the story of  the first time he ever went up in a plane. It was in one, just like this, when he was only 10-years old. He found out the plane ride would’ve cost him $10 and, in the late 1930’s, that kind of money was a small fortune, especially to a young boy. He ended up working 2 weeks, straight, pulling weeds and cleaning yards, to get the money he needed — but he got it. He said it was the best ride of his life. The pilot even gave him $5 back after it was over because, apparently, it was a pretty good ride for the pilot as well.


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