I seem to be developing a bad habit of losing my winter coats in airports.
About four years ago, I got tapped in the Houston airport for one of those icky pat-down searches and managed to forget my coat in the rush to get on the plane before they closed the doors. Even though I left it in the pat-down area, it was lost forever.
So I got a new coat.
And dropped it today while running through the airport to get to my gate.
The Engineer and I ran back and forth over the path I'd taken, but did not find the missing coat. I tracked down the phone number for the airport lost and found and called repeatedly until boarding, but only got a machine telling me to call again later.
Dang! It was 20 degrees when I got back to Salt Lake City. Not fun for finding the car in the parking lot while toting two suitcases. Guess I'll have to get another coat. I really regret losing the leather gloves and cashmere scarf I had tucked in the pockets. The scarf was the Engineer's first Christmas present to me.
Under the circumstances (or any circumstances) I'm glad I don't have my sister-in-law's taste in coats. This is a picture of her and her sister clad in their long mink coats on Christmas day.
It boggles my mind that anyone would spend $6,000 on a coat made of dead weasels.