I Watch The Patchwork Farms . . .

It's 6:49 AM on Monday morning. It's March first. I'm watching the colors in the sky shift from black to the overly-familiar grey that Seattle is blanketed with all-too-often. Here's a shout out to Starbucks and those who give gift-cards to place.

I can't be entirely certain, but, as I remember it, SeaTac airport is one of the only airports that I've been to that supplies free wi-fi for all customers. This is probably one of the better things about this airport, considering most of it appears rather run-down.

The security check was as much of a hassle as usual. While in line, however, the woman directly in front of me struck up a short conversation. In the 15 minutes I was in line, I learned that she had a daughter who just graduated from Pen State and is now living in Baltimore. This woman herself was from Atlanta, and she was in town visiting her brother who got her to the airport a little bit on the late side. She was going home with a bag that was far heavier than what she arrived with. New additions to her luggage included something along the lines of 6 bags of crumpets and 2 bags of flax wheat. I was recruited by her to lift her luggage onto the x-ray machine since, on her way to Seattle, she managed to cut herself lifting the bag. According to the story I received, she nicked her knuckle and blood spurted all over her jacket. She had to make a trip to the restroom to clean herself up. I heard her mumble something about "cranberry juice" and how she "did not want a repeat of that."

I helped her lift the bag onto the x-ray machine. Then I went to get coffee.

Well, it's just about seven now. Boarding should begin in roughly a half an hour, and then I'll "watch the patchwork farms/slow fade into the ocean's arms."