Hi Holly,

The author was Becky, AKA Shimmering Magnolia, and she is indeed a gifted writer and has produced many such wonderfully told anecdotes.  I recall that particular story vividly, but don't have a copy unfortunately.  Perhaps she kept one, you might try sending her a PM.  She's a member here, and pops in from time to time.  Good luck! 

Thank you, Yekyua.

I am so delighted that someone else remembers the story, and could help me make contact with the author.

I have sent a PM to Becky, and I hope she has managed to save that story somewhere on her computer and can post it again.    I can't imagine  how or why I did NOT send it to my daughter at the time, but she doesn't recall reading it.  I will cross my fingers that if Becky doesn't have it, perhaps someone else will. 

Thanks for your help.

Holly.

Yep, it was Bamabee. There's also a link in the group promotions section started by STX49. It's a FaceBook group, and Becky is a member there. I'm thinking with her fear of bugs even if she doesn't have it she can give you an even better updated version of the story.

You're welcome Holly. 

I'm sure she could whip up another too, FT.  Talented and creative woman, that one. 

 Hey ya'll. I've been looking for a copy of the post and can't find it, though I am having flashbacks of that giant freaking thing sitting on my windshield. :-) I don't know if I even told ya'll about the praying mantis that chased me around the parking lot at the Big Cat gas station on Highway 50 in Huguley. {{{{{Shudder}}}}}

Anyhoo, I did find the story about my first trip to Pennsylvania. I'll post that one just in case anyone is interested.

Thanks for the kind words, everyone. I miss having time to do the creative writing side of my posting days. Time is no longer my friend, it seems. :-(

I have emails to respond to here so I'll try to get that done in a minute. Thanks to everyone who responded to me!

Becky

 December, 2003

Arrived at airport in Atlanta with a rolling suitcase and a large backpack filled with things I didn’t want to take a chance on arriving in PA without. Opted for "economy" parking. I had no idea this meant I'd have to walk seven miles to get checked in. Big Mistake Number One. I will not be too cheap to pay for Park 'n Ride next time.    

Got checked in and dropped my bags off for x-raying. The man asked if I had any firearms. Do they REALLY think anyone is going to admit packing heat? Or having bombs about their person? I mean really!

Anyhoo, after I checked the suitcase I kept the backpack with me. Big Mistake Number Two. That backpack weighed a ton. I should have checked it and just taken the risk of not having my stuff.

Flight from Atlanta to Cincinnati was a tad late leaving the gate, but this was the first time I'd flown at night. We never got above the cloud cover so I could see scenery all the way. Atlanta is very pretty from the sky at night. I settled in and enjoyed the flight, thinking things should be smooth sailing (or flying, as it were) from that point on. Boy was I in for a shock.

Arrived at Cincinnati International Airport, which is not even in the state of Ohio at all. It's in Kentucky. WHO KNEW! Those people can’t even build an airport in the right state? Anyway, the plane landed and I was surprised to find that I was expected to step out into snow and ice and get myself onto some little bus/tram thing and be driven to the airport. This is when I realized that packing the heavy coat and opting to wear a Levi jacket for the flight was actually Mistake Number One.

Once I got my frozen self inside the terminal I found out my flight from Ohio, Kentucky to State College, PA was canceled. Such a thing had never happened to me before so I was clueless about what to do with myself. Stranded in Ohio, Kentucky? Noooooooooo!

They gave us two options. 1. Spend the night there and they'd put us on the morning flight to State College. 2. Take the 11:00 flight to Harrisburg, PA. They would have either a small bus or a large van to transport us to our final destinations from there. (Note “final destination”.)Since Moon Pie had to work the next day, I figured this would be better, because he would have had to leave work in Lock Haven to drive to State College and pick me up. Big Mistake Number Three. Or Four?

Soooooooooo off I go to Harrisburg. Got there and guess what?????? No bus. No van. Just a bunch of raggedyass cars with swarthy Middle Eastern drivers who could barely speak English. Ducky! Just ducky! These “taxis” were not marked as taxis. We were expected to get into cars which looked like they’d been picked up from salvage yard somewhere, with drivers who looked downright shifty. I think the one I ended up riding in was a about a 1984 maroon colored Oldsmobile which had certainly seen better days.

We had to ride four to a “taxi”. Our driver was a rather large man, wearing a heavy leather jacket and sweating profusely in absolutely frigid conditions. What up? I could only understand about half of what he said so I just gave up and climbed into the car, hoping for the best.

Sooooo off we go, with Middle Eastern Dude manning his “taxi” with the check engine light glowing brightly from the dash. And him with NO FREAKING CLUE how to get from Harrisburg to State College. Like I would know? I can get you from Ripville, Alabama to Crow Hop with my eyes closed but I know nothing about getting from Harrisburg to State College, PA. I was totally dependent upon my fellow travelers for help in getting where I needed to be. Not a good situation to find yourself in.

The other three passengers were from the State College area. There was a couple who were traveling back from spending Christmas with family out of state, and a rather nice looking guy who was somehow connected with the Air Force. The male part of the couple sat in front with Middle Eastern Dude so that he could give him directions to State College. The wife sat in the back seat, directly behind her husband. We rode the idiot bumps (those orange reflector thingies in the middle of the road) the entire way. BumpBumpBumpBumpBump! Well...except for when he was actually all the way over into the wrong lane...at which point he would sharply swerve back over and make the tires squeal on the wet pavement and the bad shocks on the car would send those of us inside the car swaying around like we were sitting on bouncing marshmallows.

There were ramshackle old houses right up on the edge of the road, and the guy in the back seat with me told me the river was right behind them, within feet of the back doors. The state was in the process of tearing down the tiny little houses to widen the road, he said. Considering the swerving and bumping (bumpbumpbumpbumpbump on the idiot bumps) that was going on, the knowledge that we were mere feet from crashing through one of those tiny little decaying houses and cruising down some river in The Check Enginemobile was enough to put me into a fetal position. But it also gave me an extreme case of the giggles. I had hit that point where nerves had taken control of my situation and I was plainly giddy.

To make matters worse, Middle Eastern Dude kept rolling his window down and turning off the heat in the car. I’m telling you, it was POLAR, ARCTIC, in that car. And me in my Levi jacket! The wife of Direction Guy (who was wearing a fur coat) would reach up and slap her husband on the back of the head (and I do mean slap the living heck out of him) and yell, “FREEZING!” and the guy would crank the window back up and turn on the heat. Five minutes later the window would go down, the heat would go off. The entire trip rather consisted of SMACK! “FREEZING!” BumpBumpBumpBump swerve, tire squeal, BumpBumpBump SMACK! “FREEZING!” I could barely control myself at all, practically rolling all over the guy sitting next to me and laughing myself half to death. And during all of this, from the CB radio in the “taxi” you would hear a female voice “I luff you ven you get home” and the driver would say “Oh my vife, my vife.” SMACK! “FREEZING!” BumpBumpBumpBump swerve, tire squeal, BumpBumpBump SMACK! “FREEZING!” “I luff you ven you get home.” “Oh my vife, my vife.” SMACK! “FREEZING!” BumpBumpBumpBump swerve, tire squeal, BumpBumpBump SMACK! “FREEZING!”  “I luff you ven you get home” “Oh my vife, my vife.” Don’t know what Middle Eastern Dude had going on, but his wife seriously wanted him to come home for some lovin’. The poor guy in the front seat getting his head slapped repeatedly finally turned around and said, very calmly, “Honey, there’s nothing I can do about it.” Didn’t stop her from continuing to slap him, though.

We finally get to the airport at State College where the other three had left their cars, and the passenger giving directions is trying to tell him how to get from there to Lock Haven (my final destination). Keeping in mind that the deal was that they were supposed to deliver us to our final destinations, wherever that happened to be, it soon became patently obvious that Middle Eastern Guy just isn't up to the challenge. He is understanding nothing Direction Guy is telling him. Nada. So I finally said I'd just go inside the airport (which was entirely deserted except for the security guard) and call Moon Pie to drive to State College and retrieve me. The other passenger stayed with me for a while to make sure I was okay. Moon Pie arrived to rescue me, and I finally got to Lock Haven at 4:00 a.m. My four hour trip had turned into almost twelve hours.

Oh, Becky, you are indeed a treasure.  What a delightful story. 

I am so sorry you couldn't find the praying mantis story, but I know I will always smile, or laugh out loud, whenever I think of the thing ending up being "five feet long."  You did it so cleverly.

I love the 

            
“Oh my vife, my vife.” SMACK! “FREEZING!” BumpBumpBumpBump swerve, tire squeal,     BumpBumpBump        SMACK! “FREEZING!” “I luff you ven you get home.” “Oh my vife, my vife.” SMACK! “FREEZING!” BumpBumpBumpBump swerve, tire squeal, BumpBumpBump SMACK! “FREEZING!”  “I luff you ven you get home” “Oh my vife, my vife.”

Thank you so much for your efforts, and thank any others who have made an effort to locate the mantis story.  Becky, you really, really need to know that you have a great gift and, if the opportunity ever presents itself, I hope you will be put in a position where others may enjoy your gift.  If someone ever makes an offer to you to write, take it.  It is sincerely meant and would be much appreciated.

I am going to give out the link to this story to my daughter and a couple of other folks who were trying to help me find the mantis story.   I would like them to experience the talent.

Hope you don't mind, TAE.  They're nice people, but not politically inclined.  But, who knows?

hh/jd