A husband and wife flying a seaplane together can have very different agendas. The final day of the September Curtiss Seaplane Homecoming in Hammondsport, New York, dawned with a cold northwest wind. I tried to pry myself out of the cramped bed we had borrowed in the cabin of gracious hosts. I was exhausted from the unromantic weekend events. Mr. G, our host, and the other guests including my husband, Bill, were having coffee on the porch. A voice inside me scolded, "You should join in." "Wish we could have gotten the America flying," I heard Tom say. "Next year." "Running today, Flygirl?" LD said as he looked toward my open bedroom door. Running here was great. A service road along the lake shore provided a quiet scenic route for me to escape into my own solitude before the barrage of activities. The intense schedule of the Curtiss Seaplane Homecoming weekend would begin in earnest for the third day in a row. I pulled the pillow over my head and groaned.
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