You’re not in Sandy Eggo any more, precious.
Update: Well, that was something of a bust. Got to the field with large wet snow flurries everywhere. Entered the ready room to hear from an F-5 pilot that all of the F-5s, F-16s and, yes – Kfirs – were cancelled from the first launch. But that the FA-18 jocks were not yet off the hook. A quick look out the window towards the runway showed visibility of less than a mile, low ceilings. Not long after came the word that the entire launch was scrubbed.
It was interesting in a way to watch the faces of the assembled aircrew at this pronouncement. It was relief, really. Smiles and jocularity, as though a weight had been lifted. Talk of better skiing up in the mountains. Fled for now thoughts of wing and inlet icing, the white knuckled approach to land in miserable conditions. The weather would not have had to be all that much better for us to pull the trigger on the flight, but as it was you could see a kind of quiet appreciation of nature’s power to carelessly thwart man’s ambitions.
They would have gone, too, if that had been the command. We all would have. Regretting every moment of it.
But that too, is part of the discipline.