It's a Dog's Life

It still surprises me that I actually own a dog, and that I actually enjoy the pooch. It's not that I've never wanted to own a dog. I just feared that I would end up with an out of control, jumping, slobbery, barking dog who chewed or pooped on important things like furniture, not to mention animal hair floating around the house. Somehow we got super lucky because Faith doesn't do any of that (well, unless you are Jenni, Melanie, Kat, or Mikey, who she likes to jump on, we are working on that) I love our sweet little dog.

Faith is still super cute, soft, good natured, patient, funny, and really an all around super good dog. We really lucked out.

Like most family animals, she's got a distinct personality. She is calm and confidant, patient, polite and playful but very feminine (she hates getting her paws wet in the wet grass or rain and will dance around until she HAS to go to the bathroom then she will jump through the grass for the perfect spot doing all she can to avoid getting wet.) For the first year we owned her we worried she might be mute. We never heard her bark or make any noise beyond snoring during a nap. That was until she met my brother-in-law Robert and the pest control guy. We don't know why she singled them out. We found that the few times she has barked that she actually has a "bow-wow" instead of a "bark-bark." Other than that she is a super quite dog. The backdoor neighbor dogs will bark and bark when she is outside, but she never makes a noise. I think she thinks they are waisting her time.

She doesn't chew on things. In fact her chewing career as a puppy spanned only a few green Army men, a Lego piece, and part of her leash. Not too bad. She uses the dog door, and goes to her crate when told. If she sees us getting ready to leave she will go without us  asking. She does some funny things too, like  her obsession with socks. She doesn't chew on them, she just hides them in the beanbag. We've not figured out why but if you are missing a sock just look in the bean bag, it's probably there. How she knows the difference between a sock and a shirt I'll never know but she can search out a sock like the best detective. She likes to play, sleep, or lay her back. I find this odd, but it obviously works for her. She is routine oriented, just like Daria. In the morning, once out of her crate she will run to Dustin's room, jump on his bed to wake him, then quickly jump off and run to Daria's room to jump on her bed to wake her. Then as quickly as she can she will run downstairs and wait patiently at my bedroom door (my room and the guest room are off limits) for me to scratch her head good morning. In the afternoon she knows when the kids will be home from school and will wait at the front window. At night, she snuggles at the foot of Daria's bed until I put her in her crate. She's an excellent car rider, has a designated spot to sit on the floor. She loves visiting the farm but does not like cows. Hates baths and getting trimmed but will allow us to do both. When I cook, she sits on the mat between my legs and the stove, waiting patiently for the morsel of food she will never get (we don't feed her people food), but she never gives up hope.

She is a constant tail wagger. Actually, if she is sleeping or resting she's not wagging her tail, but if you move she will open one eye  (I call it her "pirate eye stare" to look at you and start wagging her tail. If you move towards her or even look at her she will wag her tail. She even wags it while she is walking. One time when she was a puppy she tried to run away. Ken carried her back by the scruff of her neck. Her whole body was stiff in the scruff carrying position, all but her tail which was wagging back and forth. We learned that Cocker Spaniels tend to be this way, they are apparently very friendly, happy dogs. Even though she is not a full Cocker, we agree.  

What I think is amazing, as dogs usually are in this area, is that it seems that her whole purpose or goal is to make us  happy. No matter where I am in the house during the day, she will hang with me. If I move, she moves. Each day she greats each of us as though we were the best thing next to apple pie. Although she is considered the family dog, she really is Daria's dog. I say this not only because we got her for Daria, but because the moment Daria enters the room Faith will follow her around. Where Daria goes, Faith goes. They are a inseparable. She looks to Daria for everything. I find it so amazing that the whole reason we got her was to give Daria a companion. Somehow Faith already knew that.

 

Faith playing on her back with her ball

 

 

Faith snuggles with Daria

 

Ready for bed?

 

 The view of under my desk. Not much room for my feet but she doesn't care

 

This is Faith's brother Bobby. This is how furry Faith would be if we didn't keep her trimmed. Bobby and Faith walk together every day.

 

 

 

We've been told that her markings are similar to the Springer Spaniel, which was a hunting dog.

 

 

Taking a nap. Seriously!

 

 

Another nap on her back. You can't see her face because she curls it under her tummy.

 

 

Faith's designated cooking spot. It's really annoying because she is in the way but she will do this every time.

 

Faith's family. Bobby & Alise, Daria & Faith, The K. girls and Harry. On the dog's first birthday last year we celebrated by getting them together.

When Did This Happen?

 

All of the sudden I am very aware that my super fun, thoughtful, loving little girl is turning into a beautiful, talented, young woman. I ask myself  "When did this happen?" "How is it that my daughter can fit in to some of my clothes and now has a larger shoe size than me?" All of the sudden she went from elementary school to taking classes that I didn't even take until high school if at all. Yep, no joking. During 8th grade orientation I heard one of her teachers say things like "Integrated Physics and Chemistry" and "this is a high school credit class"  .....  Just for a moment I thought I was in the wrong class. Could this be right? Really? Chemistry in 8th grade? It is amazing. While it has been challenging Daria has plugged forward without missing a beat. Three of her classes are high school credit; Algebra, IPC, and Health. I will admit, the Algebra was eating all of the kids lunch the first 6 weeks. Daria, Alise and Logan have found that studying in groups can be effective. This will help them during high school and college. I'm officially now at the stage in parenting where I can no longer help my child in math let alone even understand what she is bringing  home (unless I do some research). It looks like a foreign language to me. IPC? I have no clue (even though it interests me). Did I ever learn that stuff in school? Just for the record, my good friend Jenni who tutors in math said she didn't learn some of the problems they are working on until she was in college, so it's not just me. Personally I think it's pretty amazing what kids can do and learn these days. Daria is finding that she loves IPC, it's her favorite class. She is also enjoying her Health class which goes quite in depth. They spent 6 weeks on recreational drugs alone. Daria can tell you word for word what they are classified as, the chemical changes they create in your body and the short and long term affects and has solidified in her mind that taking drugs is just plain dumb. She loves learning about that type of stuff and continues to feel drawn toward a degree in the medical arena.

But my post is not about Daria's schooling, it's about how she is growing up into a fine young woman. She handles her heavy schedule in school very well. Some of the things that she enjoys doing is playing the flute in honor band and has worked really hard to make it to 1st chair, continues to play the piano and take lessons, participates in the National Jr. Honor Society, enjoys her dance class at school, loves taking care of her dog and enjoys their daily walks. She likes serving as the secretary in the Beehive class at church and is planning on finishing her Personal Progress Young Woman Recognition program by the time she turns 14, and really loves going to the temple. All of this keeps her pretty busy. She is not overly impressed with the social scene, isn't a fan of makeup or hairspray (hard to believe since she is after all my child. Dad & Carol, you will be proud!) and so far not head over heals for boys but is looking forward to her first church dance in May and can't wait to start Seminary next fall.

 

Daria at her most recent band concert. She is happy to have earned first chair but not thrilled that first chair is responsible for any solos.

 

Here is a link to two of the songs they played. It is a private link so please do not share it.

 

http://www.keeping-history-alive.com/share/9oPh6NSqXRw7U

 

Daria's first dance performance at the Pep Rally. Daria loves dancing, although she would rather not dance in front of people. In fact, she was worried that if  Ken and I came it would make her nervous. We went anyway and we are all glad for it.  

  

 

Here is a link to view the dance class performance at the pep rally. This is a private link please do not share it.

 

http://www.keeping-history-alive.com/share/tfyoCJWPiWPtM

 

After the dance performance Daria rushed over to play her part in the band portion of the Pep Rally. Daria is the one in green.

 

 

and the following pictures were taken on Halloween.

 

 

What? As I said Daria is not a makeup kind of gal, she grumbled that the dance teacher made them wear eyeshadow for the dance performance, but was willing to put on the red lipstick, blush and a tiny bit of mascara to get the 40's look (she's kind of got the 40's bug too, loves the hairstyles and dresses). Personally the moment she put it on I wanted her to take it right off .... red lipstick is only allowed once for a Halloween costume and not again until she is 30! I'm glad she wanted to get it off as soon as we got home ...

 

 

When did this happen?

Fabulous 40's

This is probably the most inexpensive Halloween I've ever had as a parent. Most years I spend sewing and gathering items to authenticate whatever costume I'm working on and probably spend more than the average person would on a store bought costume. Maybe it's because the kids are growing or I've been super busy but I just couldn't make myself create any costumes this year (and the kids couldn't decide what they wanted to be). Either way it's ok. We had fun putting together what we had. The theme this year seemed to be "The Fabulous 40's." I didn't have to look far for my costume .. .just a few steps to my closet for my 1940's WAC (Women's Army Corp) uniform. Daria initially wanted to dress as Rosie the Riveter. Finding a blue work shirt her size at any secondhand shops was impossible. She opted for my authentic 1940's dress. Wait, does anyone see a problem here? I fit in that dress (albeit very differently than Daria does.) How can Daria fit in it too? Dustin wanted to be an old man complete with a walker. However as he later decided he wanted to be an old WWII veteran and begged to wear Grandpa Bell's WWII ball cap. Once he put it on we all laughed. Dustin sure makes a good old man!! The first set of photos are from our church trunk-or-treat, which was on Friday. On Halloween, Dustin chose to go as a secret agent  with his friend Caden (black suit, sun glasses) but most people thought they were the Blues Brothers. Ken ended up dressing as himself this year. He wanted to go as Col. Klink from Hogan's Heroes but finding a monocle and German commandant uniform was a bit hard. Maybe next year after I find a monocle for him to wear!

 

 
 

 

Since Daria is getting older she spent most of the time passing out candy at the trunk-or-treat, but did make a few laps in our neighborhood with a few of her friends.

 
Here is a photo of the damage ..... way too much candy. I am not concerned though as the Switch Witch usually visits our house each year. If you are not aware of the Switch Witch, I will tell you that she is in direct competition with the Tooth Fairy. While the Tooth Fairy's goal is to keep your teeth healthy and strong, the Switch Witch's goal is to rot your teeth. Each year she randomly chooses houses to visit, leaves a note reading something like "I'll switch you for this you switch me for that..." After sorting through their candy, the kids will keep only a small amount of their favorites and will leave the rest outside their bedroom door. In the morning the candy is gone and the Switch Witch usually leaves a tiny gift, like a book, or small game, etc (keep in mind this is not Christmas). She has not visited our home yet, so we will see. (I'm sure the kids know who the Switch Witch is, but it's a fun tradition for us and gets rid of all that candy that can't possibly be good for their bodies! and I like that they would rather have something small than a bowl of candy that could feed 80 people!)

 

Summer boredom

Summer is waining on and I hate to use the dreaded word "bored" because we really don't allow that word in our house because we all know that "bored is a choice," but the truth is we are falling into the slowness of summer where we've exhausted most of our options for keeping us busy and our minds stimulated. This is actually a confirmation to me that "vacation" isn't really just about doing "nothing" but that we are happiest when we are doing something, even if it's small. Somehow our list of "100 things to do during the summer" that is posted on the wall was  not very appealing tonight as we stared at each other with blank looks.

The only thing I could think to do was pull an idea from my childhood.

I have this distinct memory of sitting in my uncle Scott's room with him and my brother Mark. With motorcycle helmets to protect our faces we spent a good amount of time engaged in a rubber band war with the 100's of rubber bands confiscated from Scott's paper route supplies.

When you are bored we have proven that all you need is a rubber band ... oh, and maybe a helmet and glasses.

the random rubber band that oddly stuck to the wall

Bucket List: canning jam

Bucket lists are as varied and diverse as the persons they are attached to. The term "Bucket List," I think, comes from the popular movie by the same name, and is nothing more than a list of things that you want to make sure you do in this life. Honestly I admit I've never even seen the movie (maybe I should add that to my list). But I understand the idea enough that I've got my own bucket list which I add to now and then. Daria and I even have a mother daughter bucket list of things to do or accomplish before she turns 18.

One of the items on my list was to learn to can. Yes that's right. Can... probably not as exciting as visiting some foreign country, but I really want to be proficient at canning and not just jams. Personally I've always been intrigued by the idea of putting your own food in your own jars - it gives me this sense of accomplishment, resourcefulness, frugality, and the comfort of knowing that I have the ability to do more than drive to the store and purchase food. Besides, it's really just tasty chemistry, with added benefits that include teaching my children some life skills and a few memories and lessons along the way.

I've hem-hawed around about doing this for years, literally. Both Daria and I are working on our Personal Progress and so we chose to learn to can this summer. It helped that I had to make room in our freezer for the beef that we buy from Ken's dad each year. I have loads of frozen Oregon raspberries neatly vacuum packed and tucked away in the freezer, and they take up a lot of room. Almost every year the ladies at church and I order fresh frozen berries from Bithel Farms up in Oregon. If you order enough they drive their 18 wheeler to your state to deliver your berries (you may wonder how that is possible to order enough but any time you have a concentration of Mormon women, ordering a truck load of berries is never a problem! Ha, ha). I've been using my berries in our cereal with the idea that I will "learn to can them some day," and in the mean time everytime I purchase jam in the store I get more frustrated at the cost realizing that I should be able to make the same thing cheaper and with at least 12 less ingredients than they have listed on their jar (I'm exaggerating of course). My kids go through peanut butter and jelly like water so purchasing a jar of jam/jelly is painful.

So today was the day. We endured a few mishaps (broke the glass measuring cup right at the start, poured sugar on the stove instead of in the pot - this turned in to rock hard candy that took forever to get off, and we spilled one full jar of hot jam). All in all, after Daria and I were done, we realized that canning jam is super easy and it I almost felt embarrassed that I never tried it sooner.

getting started, boil jars, lids, and jam

Daria, stirring..and stirring..and stirring

Doesn't this look delicious!

almost ready but not quite

here are the rolling bubbles we are looking for

One super posed shot, notice my super cool FBI apron that took me 7 years to get from Brother W. (who is an FBI agent). What's canning jam if you don't have your FBI apron!

one jar wasted, but we don't cry over spilled "jam"

the final product!

* note: Dustin originally was going to help. Instead, he and Logan convinced me they were performing science experiments outside (with empty plastic bottles, vinegar and baking soda). I think the term "science experiment" is really stretching it .... maybe I should have sent them out there with safety glasses on.

*note: why is it that I'm an adult and I never realized that raspberries had the letter "p" in it?? One learns something new everyday.

It's an Honor

Daria, one of the newest members of the National Junior Honor Society

Last night Daria was inducted into the National Junior Honor Society. We are super proud of Daria and her achievements. Ken, who was also a member of the Honor Society was excited that she is carrying on the legacy. Eligibility in the Honor Society is based off of Scholarship, Leadership, Service, Character, and Citizenship.

Sometimes we don't realize how much and how well our kids are doing. Once Daria was nominated, we were required to turn in a list of things she has accomplished; service she has provided, leadership opportunities, skills she has excelled at, and any other activities that fall under the Honor Societies umbrella of excellence. As we started putting this list together I was amazed at how much she has done. I think every person should sit down and make a list of things they've done, we might surprise ourselves. We might feel better about ourselves if we realized how much we really do.

This reminded me of something I failed to post. When Daria was in 6th grade she was awarded - The Presidential Education Award for Outstanding Academic Excellence (this was based off of academic and leadership skills). Only a handful of students (I'm guessing about 24 out of the whole grade) received this award which they were not aware of until the award was presented.

Daria holding her Presidential Education Award, signed by the President of the United States

Historic Flight

Our group

On Friday March 30 I had the incredible opportunity of flying in a WWII B17 bomber along with several WWII veterans.

Who would have ever thought?

Julee the daughter of Pete, a 95 year old WWII veteran,  B-17 pilot,  and former prisoner of war, organized a flight on a B17 and B24 with the Collings foundation for a handful of WWII veterans. The Collings Foundation maintains historical vehicles and aircraft. They fly these planes all over the United States visiting air shows and airports. The flight would take off from an air base south of downtown, and fly to another local airport. Initially I was to photograph the veterans landing or taking off. It didn't matter which end I was on. Three days before the flight Julee called and told me I was "on" the flight and could choose which plane I wanted to ride on. Really? How many times in your life do you get a choice like that!? and when you do how in the world do you "choose" between two pieces of history?

About this time I told Ken I would be flying with the veterans to which he responded half joking, and half serious, "What if it crashes?"  Huh? In my excitement I really hadn't thought about that and now the seeds of superstition floated through my brain. After all, these planes which made it through combat missions are 70 years old. So I kindly finished the taxes so at least THAT would be out of the way in case I didn't come home on Friday.

Fortunately it was decided for me which plane I would be on. The B17 would come in with the engines hot and Collings doesn't like shutting them down to start back up. So my job was to hop on the B24, photograph the veterans who would be on that plane, and then make it over to the B17. All that preparation and they turned off the engines anyway. But I didn't mind.

My experience was amazing and funny at the same time. My instructions after getting off the B24, were to stand near the tip of the B17 wing and wait until the engines were running. This is a process. There are 4 engines. The crewman makes sure the propeller on the first engine is in the right position, gives the signal to the pilot who turns that engine on, then he does the same for the next 3 engines. I enjoyed watching all of this of course. Once he was done he signaled for me to follow him to the rear of the plane near the tail to the hatch door we would enter. I took no thought of this until I was directly behind the powerful burst of wind from the engines which about blew me over, cameras and all. I felt like I was trudging through cement trying to stay standing as I made it to the hatch. I'm sure the crewman was amused at least the smile on his face made it seem that way. Somehow I don't remember seeing him having such a hard time walking to the door. After finally making it to the hatch door, he instructed me to face forward with my back against the hatch (or plane), reach up to the top of the doorway and pull myself up. This is simple as long as you can do pull-ups, something I stink at even without a backpack on and cameras around my neck. Added to the issue of being pull-up dysfunctional, the incredible wind current from the engines was blowing my t-shirt up to my face and my hair was in my eyes. You have to visualize this as the crewman was not yet in the plane. I was facing him and he was facing me trying to help as I struggled with cameras, and a air filled t-shirt with my hair in my face. Not a pretty site, then again, I'm getting on a bomber, not an ice skating rink.

There are no real seats on a bomber (excluding the pilots, radioman, and front gunner area) more like cushions on the floor or you find a nice comfortable spot on the steel floor between the ribs of the plane's interior. Surprisingly the floor contains seatbelts - not like what we have today, but the old quick release military type seat belts.

example of the seat belt, although ours did not have the leather piece.

Before I go on here is a little information on the veterans who were on the flights.

Pete.  As I mentioned Pete is 95 years old. He served as a B17 pilot in the Eighth Air force. His last mission was on "Black Thursday." That was our attempt to bomb the ball bearing factories in the city of Schweinfurt which was one of Hitler's most highly defended targets. The mission didn't go as well. Over 60 planes would be shot down. More than 600  airmen were killed or captured. Pete was one of those who was captured and remained a prisoner of war for a year and a half.

Ike, a Navy veteran. They say never to trust a sailor because you never know when they are telling the truth. This is accurate with Ike, he was barely 16 when he lied about his age to join the service.

Bob, an Army veteran. He was flying in honor of his brother in-law who was a B17 crewmember.

RB, a B17 ball turret gunner who was shot down on Valentine's day 1945.

George, another B17 ball turret gunner, shot down and remained a prisoner of war for 15 months.

Renard, a B24 top turret gunner, shot down and remained a prisoner of war for 11 months before escaping. It should be noted that while Renard and George did not know each other then, they found out that they were held in the same prison camp during the same time. It was during a forced march that Renard and a few others made a successful escape.

Walter, a B24 tail gunner. Thankfully he made all of his missions without being shot down.

Martha, a Korean Air Force veteran, flying in honor of her late husband who served in the Navy during WWII and in the Air Force for Korea and Vietnam.

Bobby, another Army veteran.

Carl, a Korean Air Force veteran.

The process of flying WWII veterans is one thing, getting them on a plane like this is another. There are no stairs or jet ways to make getting on easy. Each veteran was carefully loaded in and positioned on the floor with promises that we would help them get back up from a floor seated position. In our safety briefing we were told that we must stay buckled until we were up in the air and get the "thumbs up" sign signifying that we could go ANYWHERE we wanted on the plane excluding the tail gunner position.

In a B17, you are literally sitting in a iron or steel shell of  a plane. There is no insulation so the roar of the engines is loud, but not as loud as it is standing outside of the plane. Fortunately for the veterans all they had to do was turn their hearing aids off. As for me I was glad I brought earplugs. We taxied down the runway, which I wouldn't have known since there are no windows near the floor. The closest windows to me were the waist guns but you would have to be standing to see out of them. The crewman sitting by me mouthed the words "It's about to get really loud."
"What? I can't hear you!" I thought, and at that moment we got the thumbs up that we could unbuckle and move around the plane. WHAT?! we are in the air? For the inexperienced bomber flight newbie that I am I learned something that I never considered due to my experience being limited to commercial airplanes. First, these planes are NOT fast. According to Boeing the top speed is 287 miles per hour with a cruising speed of 150. George said they cruised at 150 but would drop out of the sky at 145. Considering that my van can go 160 miles an hour that's not real impressive. Because they are not that fast and do not incline on takeoff as sharp as a commercial plane, I never experienced any inertia so I had no clue we even lifted off. Add to it not being able to see out of the window really messes with your sense of orientation.

Now as for the veterans, who we carefully stuffed onto the plane, the moment they got the thumbs up, unbuckled their seat belts and jumped up faster than lightening. With smiles from ear to ear they maneuvered around the plane as if they were 20 years old again, taking pictures, looking out windows, turrets and hatches, crawling through tight spots, and squeezing through bombay doors (afterwards, George who is a lean 91 year old, said if he did all that bending and climbing every day he would be back in shape in six months! These men are so funny.)

I was thrilled to witness this moment with them. To fly with men who were there was a perfectly amazing humbling experience. I wondered what might be going through their minds, surely all the memories. I thought of the men who were shot out of the sky and tried to imagine the horror that must have been. I watched RB as he stood near his ball turret, leaning against the waist gun looking out over the land. His face was filled with a smile of complete content. I watched Bob smile as he took pictures. I watched Pete sit in contentment as he sat behind the pilot. Later I would witness Walter, George, and Renard climb out of the B24 with such excitement it seemed as though they just experienced the best day of their lives. Watching them taught me an important lesson. While war is an ugly thing, as human beings we are quite resilient and can make good memories among the difficult ones. There is some connection between men and women who experience, complete, or survive something hard together. There is also some connection with the tools they used, in this case, a ship, plane, tank, etc. The thought of touching and using it again brings some sense of satisfaction and a whole lot of great memories that turn in to smiles. In the case of these men, they had a lot of great memories of their crew and the missions that they came back safely from. The ball turret gunners remarked that usually the ball turret was the least desired position but they loved it because they had an incredible 360° view. This was the first time since the war that any of them flew on a bomber.

RB

Now, back to me. As soon as the veterans were up and about I hopped up to start taking pictures. Experience number 2 in a bomber. They are not stable like a commercial plane. To walk anywhere I had to hold on to something to avoid losing my balance. It's not extremely rough, but more like sitting in a small boat that ebbs and flows on the lake. It was difficult and I again wondered how these veterans did it without falling. I walked all over, up, down, turned around, in and out of places. Finally I found myself crawling under the pilots position to get to the front gunner position. This by far was one of the coolest spots. This position has a seat and is surrounded by a huge bubble shaped window. So you have this feeling that you are sitting in the air and can see everything in front of you. This is also the best spot to see the engines from. This was about the only time I was reminded I was on a very very old piece of  machinery. The propellers play a trick on your eyes and look like they are barely moving and you can see that the plates of the plane are quite old. This didn't bother me though as I was completely in awe of it all.

view of the right engines from the front gunner position

view of the tail through the top turret

front gunner position

Soon I found myself alone in the front gunner position and suddenly felt hot, sweaty and a bit clammy. That's when I realized that I did NOT feel to swell. I have been known to get motion sick in the car if I read or turn around. It never occurred to me that moving all around in different directions in an unbalanced plane might make me sick. Ike's comment on taking Dramamine on the way to the airport never registered to me either, nor did the mention of baggies being in the ammo boxes during our flight briefing raise a red flag for me. You might be wondering what in the world I did. Well, I'll tell you. I decided then and there that no way in this world was I going to go down in history as getting sick in front of seasoned WWII veterans on a B17. I used all the energy I had to mentally convince myself that I felt just fine. Really, that's the truth. I also tried to get back to the radio room where Pete was as quickly as possible. I knew there would be fresh air there. Behind the pilot is a top turret and behind that is located the radio room. This is where a top hatch is located. Collings left that open for us and told us we could stick our head out of it if we would like. That was super cool except I was too short to really get all of my head out but I did get a good shot of the tail from that position. Here I stood, breathing in the fresh air, smiling at Pete as if nothing was wrong, convincing myself that I felt fine, forcing myself to take a few photographs. Soon we got the signal that it was time to be seated. There I went, wobbling my way back through the swaying plane to my seat on the floor. Just like on takeoff, I never knew we landed, and I really couldn't tell we had even stopped.
Despite the slight motion sickness near the end of the flight, I enjoyed and soaked up every minute of this experience and would do it all over again in a heartbeat - with the aid of Dramamine of course. It really was an experience of a lifetime that I will  never forget. I am so thankful I was able to participate.