Weight it again San

So it was determined on the way to the airport this morning that I left my cell phone at home.  Oh well one less thing for me to keep track of.  But earlier I am thinking that my cacoon of a back pack needs a handle.  So I am out in the garage in the dark dark of night sawing up the g-kids t-ball tee for a handle.  I thought it looked pretty good all hooked on with strapping tape.  "I don't know", Samdy said, "it looks a lot like dynamite.  Well yeah it kind of does but there no fuze looking thing I should be OK.

Checked the bag with no problem, the desk said she had seen worst.  But oh, oh what's this, I have a rock in my pocket.  Not a large rock, but still a rock.  Maybe that is why I thought I had my phone, the rock is about the same size.  OK I can explain, I will be walking past a monument where the pilgrims ate invited to "cast off" their burdens by bringing a rock from their home town and then by leaving it at the monument it's symbolic as to the burdens of your life. I really don't have a lot of burdens so the size should be about right.  I came about the rock when our Suzanne was running a 100 mile ultra out on the desert.  Me being her support team ( Sandy got to have the boys for two days) I was waiting a couple of miles down the road when this rock called my name.  Pick me, pick me, so I picked it up and put in my pocket, then it landed on my dresser where it has sat for one month lacking two years. I was going to put it in my back pack with the four survival knives but forgot. I stuck it in my bum bag ( the Britts don't cotton to the word "fanny") wondering how I would answere security's question as to the reason  I needed a rock.  Well hell you never know when you might need to smash something.

To be continued............