From birthday balloons to a workout at the Atlanta airport

 One of the things we do on birthdays is look back at some versions of our former selves.

Bob and I will be 72 and 75 in October.  Carlene is sailing smoothly toward 99!  

I'm not sure if I'm bragging or complaining here, but this is what my day looked like after I was delivered to the Atlanta airport two hours ahead of departure: 

My boarding pass was missing essential information: the terminal and gate numbers.  I asked three different security workers; each directed me to look it up on Google or at one of the monitors near the train. Double-escalator #1 took us to the trains.  

I asked a random Delta employee and she looked it up on HER Google.  She told me to go back to Terminal T--gate 5. 

A mile of walking, Luci's carrier in tow, I finally arrived at T-5, passengers boarding for Denver. One of them, a Delta pilot,  kindly directed me to Terminal B, gate 4.  B-4: 

BE-FORE the plane boarded, I hoped, gripping tightly to Luci's carrier in one hand, my bag in another.  (The elevator I needed was out of service--as it was a week ago when we landed.) 

Down two more escalators.  (Here's where I'm bragging.  I surprised myself I had the strength  to balance myself, my dog, and my bags on a long set of descending escalators!) 

Got to Terminal B.  Up two more packed-with-people escalators, holding on for dear life to keep the cart from rolling down as I was going up....

Two hours from drop-off and 2 1/2 walking miles later, we arrived at B-4 mid-boarding!

Ten minutes more and we'd have missed our flight.  Luci curled up in a little ball in her carrier and waited patiently for whatever was next.

Funny how dogs are: they just want to be with their people and they take each moment as it comes.  Bumping and banging around on moving stairs?  No problem.