I hesitate to say there is a downside to living in Flagstaff, AZ. That's how much I love the place. But yesterday, even I had my doubts. Here's why.

In a weak moment sometime ago, we agreed to take care of the grandkids while our daughter and son-in-law go away for a week to celebrate their 10th anniversary. Then, they told us that instead of going in May, when their anniversary actually is, they were going to Hawaii this February. Oh. The only problem with that is that they live in Iowa. Ok, love conquers all.

We planned ahead -- the kids don't leave until tomorrow a.m. and our itinerary had us arriving at 1:30 p.m. yesterday. Then a Flagstaff winter storm intervened. Two inches on the ground when we arose at 5:30 a.m. to head toward the 16-seater prop flight scheduled to leave Flagstaff for Phoenix at 8 a.m. All went well for a while - a little slower drive on the usual 20 minute drive to our little airport (where there is free long-term parking), but we arrived safely in plenty of time. And, as we pulled up, we could see joyful news:

There was a plane! There were the pilot and co-pilot! TSA was working away checking people's bags by hand! We boarded on time, door closed, we were de-iced. Then the bad stuff: visibility dropped and the pilot (wisely) cancelled the take-off. We deplaned and got our luggage, planning to take a shuttle to Phoenix. Already this is a bigger problem than it first appears -- the plane we were to catch from Phoenix to Des Moines was set for 10:00 a.m., and the next one doesn't leave until 7:56 p.m., scheduled to arrive in Des Moines after 11 p.m. (10 p.m. for our buy clocks.) Ugh.

Next, after we've phone to schedule the shuttle bus, the airline announced they are again boarding our flight to Phoenix. But, they won't take us back on because we have taken our 4 pieces of checked luggage (lots of snow boots and down coats for playing outside in the Iowa winter) out of TSA's custody (in preparation for that shuttle ride - remember). We look terribly sad and grandmotherly, so after everyone else (except those who have already abandoned ship and left the airport) boards the plane, the TSA guys decide weren't not looking like terrorists so they will let us go through again, if we VERY QUICKLY take off our shoes and our outer coats, pull the little plastic baggies with all of our liquids out of wherever it has gotten to, pull my laptop out of its case, and show them our drivers' licenses again. In the "very quick" process, I misplaced my cell phone.

We pile into the back of the plane with the remaining 8 passengers who had been waiting in the cold with the door open (all in the far back seats to balance the plane). All the passengers looked very unhappy with us, except our nice neighbor, with whom we'd chatted earlier. The door closed and the cute flight attendant started to tear apart the inside of the plane. It turned out he was warming his hands on the hot water heater up front and had to take apart a substantial part of the inside of the plane to get to the hot water heater. Meanwhile, as the deicer machine approached the plane, I was desperately searching through all of my carry-on luggage and pockets to find my cell phone. I was worried that I hadn't called to cancel our shuttle reservation, but more worried that the shuttle driver would call and the phone's ringing would reveal to the entire plane that I hadn't turned off the cell phone in accordance with pre-flight instructions. Meanwhile, the flight attendant finishes warming his hands and moves down the aisle offering all of us some of the upscale hand lotion he carries. Someone notes out load that this is a GIANT bottle and would never make it though TSA. The flight attendant says he has "special privileges." We all laugh. He is very cute. He says he plans to go to Medical School next year and he hopes the plane takes off because if it doesn't fly, he doesn't get paid.

Then, the plane de-icier broke. Flight again postponed and passengers sent back to terminal. As we walk into the terminal, thinking we might have to drive our own car to Phoenix, the location of my cell phone becomes apparent when the driver calls to say they have been running late, but will be there in 5 minutes. We scramble to reclaim our bags from behind the counter and from the frustrated airline personnel who, in Flagstaff, do the check-in, rescheduling, and also do the baggage loading and unloading AND run the deicing machine (when it runs).

The shuttle guy gave me a hard time because he knew we had tried to fly out with out calling to cancel. But he took us anyway, and he picked up two more passengers to fill his load of twelve trying to get out of the storm and down to Phoenix. One-half hour later, we were passing Sedona on I-17 when the sun broke out of the snow clouds. When we arrived in Phoenix, it was 67° and sunny, and 1:30 p.m. We killed time in the Phoenix airport until 7:30 p.m. and arrived at our final destination just after midnight. Ugh, again.

My wireless connection in the Phoenix airport was slow, so I wasn't able to complete my weekly Flagstaff Weekend blog post before the laptop battery ran out (and I had checked the power cord - last time I do that!) I finished it this a.m. after breakfast with the kids, and a post-breakfast nap.

When not traveling from Flagstaff, it's still the best place to live. Here are a couple of earlier posts to prove it:

Snowed in Here in Flagstaff

Weather Is Warmer in Flagstaff with Plenty of Snow

And, now that I think of it, I have had trouble traveling from other places - there was that Christmas Eve that I spent in the Pittsburgh airport....