Merry Christmas from the Wattmans. Our family celebration this year took on a new dimension. We gathered at Elise’s home in Texas, rather than in Minnesota. The journey for Rick and Judy included flying through Houston, TX, which was a first for both of them. In the end, it may turn out to be their last as well. (More on that later…)

Circumstances conspired to effect this break from tradition: Judy’s mom did not come to Minnesota for Christmas this year; and Elise and Matt both had work in Texas which prevented their coming home for more than a day or two.

In the end, it was also VERY cold in Minnesota, so the relatively warm climes of Denton, TX, were a welcome respite from the frigid temps in the northland. When we left on Saturday, wind chill temperatures were in the 30º BELOW zero range.

We were surprised to find the Dallas temperatures temporarily at 20º ABOVE zero, but were soon rewarded with more a typical spread of 50º-70º.

Newlyweds Anna and Alex Bauer arranged their schedules so they could drive down. They juggled grad school, homework, jobs, and participation in multiple family functions. As a result, we were all together to celebrate our Christmas traditions, and to create new ones. They packed their Prius with presents so we didn’t have to pay to ship them or try to manage them all on the aircraft.

They arrived first, so they had a couple of days to spend with Matt and Elise before we got there. Once we were all under one roof, we nailed down details of our time together, and decided our “Christmas” would be Tuesday (since the Bauers would be leaving on Wednesday); that meant “Christmas eve” would be on Monday.

We were fortunate to be able to experience a Christmas concert at nearby Robson Ranch, a master planned retirement community. Elise regularly accompanies their choir rehearsals, as they prepare for two annual concert series. Her band, The Lowdown, was rebranded “The Robson Regulars” for the event, and opened the show with several Christmas favorites. Then the choir chipped in and sang a full program, including the arrival of Santa and his elves. It was fun to see how the choir adore and rely on her.

We were also blessed to visit one of the churches Elise regularly plays for, Lifepoint United Methodist, in Haslet, TX (out on the prairie, just off the highway, north of Fort Worth). Dr. Thomas Childs is the founding pastor, as well as a jazz musician and author. It seems to be a vibrant, healthy, faith community. Dr. Childs has authored a couple of books on faith, from an evidence-based perspective, and regularly encourages his congregation to be actively engaged in a life of witness and service. Elise also enjoys participating in a small group at the church. We got to experience a couple of Sunday worship services (Judy, who has visited before, sang with the choir) as well as their Christmas eve candlelight service.

At home, we earnestly dove into our first tradition: a new puzzle. It was a 1,500-piece monstrosity and ultimately remained unfinished when our holiday time was complete. Nevertheless, Judy vowed to finish it when she returns in January for a previously-scheduled visit. We left it on the dining room table to await her arrival, covered by a board so it will remain undisturbed.

We truly enjoy hanging out together, and don’t take times like this for granted: meals, walks, talks, games. Anna, Elise, and Matt busily made plans, laid in provisions, and prepared a feast for our “Monday as Christmas eve” repast. Even the work and antics in the kitchen provided a joyful, familiar, family quality to the season. It was quite a spread, and showcased each of their unique talents and styles.

We shared Christmas gifts and laughter around the tree, topped this year by Yoda puppet! “Stockings were hung by the chimney with care,” although we also noticed that the flue is blocked with bricks, so that if “anyone” attempted to come down the chimney to fill them, he would be rudely surprised and quite likely trapped.

Matt apologized to Elise that he hadn’t been able to get her present in time, but she was very understanding and told him not to worry. He then excused himself to drive to Waco (two hours away) where he had an appointment with a potential buyer for a cymbal he had been attempting to sell online. Apparently you have to do these things no matter the hour, as musicians keep irregular hours.

He was gone all night on his errand, and when he returned in the early hours of our “Tuesday as Christmas day” morning, we were just rousing ourselves from “a long winter’s nap.” What we discovered was that his “errand” had actually been a carefully timed and planned rendezvous with a former roommate in Houston (over four hours away, NOT merely down the road in Waco) to pick up a puppy for Elise. He had arranged for Sam to pick up the puppy from a source in Pharr, TX, some five hours from Houston, when he had been visiting Brownsville, TX, only an hour from Pharr. The bottom line was the surprise introduction of Elise to the six-week-old miniature schnauzer of her dreams. She was sleepily shocked by this turn of events and cried out, “Do I get to keep it?”

It was beautiful to see, and we all fell in love with this scruffy bundle of energy. She was deemed “not even a dog yet” by the veterinarian who examined her, but she was more than capable of capturing all of our hearts, even the most-staunchly non-dog-loving among us (who shall remain nameless). She has tentatively been christened Umlaut, and will be called Lettii.

Anna quickly crafted a sweater for her, and we all set about learning how to care for, entertain, and watch out for her natural, non-house-broken behaviors. Her presence added yet a new flavor to our family gathering. Anna and Alex also have a pet, a yellow tabby named Morris, who temporarily resides in our home until they are able to lease an apartment that (affordably) allows animals. Our planning for future family festivities will now be complicated by arrangements for temporary accommodations for the littlest among us.

On Wednesday, Anna and Alex repacked the Prius, and headed back north for other family celebrations. We undertook the remainder of our time in Texas, savoring the time until we, too, must return to Minnesota. Part of our experience was an evening visit to the Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Garden. They were all decked out for the “12 Days of Christmas,” including displays of artfully crafted winter scenes (some not too dissimilar from our own backyard). We heard carolers, had cider and spiced wine, saw the lights, and strolled outdoors without coats—on December 23!

Before we knew it and well before we were ready for it, we packed ourselves up and began our journey home. As before, our route took us through Houston, a large and sprawling airport complex near the Gulf coast. It is so large, in fact, that it took us so long to find an open gate (after spending forty-five minutes on the tarmac) that we missed our connecting flight. It was frustrating that, although they knew we were here, and that several people were transferring to the other aircraft, they still did not hold the plane long enough for us to sprint the half-mile (!) to the gate. We were there; the plane was there; but the door was closed; and none of us was allowed to board.

“Houston, We Have a Problem” *

These iconic words, misquoted from the historic Apollo 13 (failed) moon mission, took on new meaning for us. All of us who were stranded at the gate trooped to the service desk to find alternative transport, all of which would take place the next day. They arranged for hotel accommodations and meal vouchers. Since the issue was not weather related, they paid for the unintended layover. Upon our arrival at the end of the queue, Judy noticed a young woman burst into tears. She comforted her, and offered to go through the process with her. Over the next twenty-seven hours(!), we had quite an adventure (misadventure?).

At first they booked us on a flight at 7 am, which connected through Denver. Having once spent an unplanned day in Denver, we requested a direct flight, as our scheduled flight had been. There was a 10:30 flight, to which we agreed, and which we preferred over having to be back at the airport in time to catch a plane by 7 am.

Because so many people were stranded, the hotels (at least the one we were assigned) we not able to keep up with the demand for shuttle transportation. After waiting not-quite-an-hour, Judy cleverly asked the driver of another hotel’s shuttle (which we had seen twice while waiting for ours NOT to appear) if he wouldn’t deliver us. To our surprise he agreed. He was also surprised when there turned out to be six people waiting for rides to the same hotel. But he good-naturedly and safely dropped us off (without actually driving onto the other hotel’s property) where we needed to be.

Then we got on queue as the overwhelmed hotel staff tried (unsuccessfully) to accommodate the onslaught of guests. Eventually we got a room. But wait: there’s more. The outside temperature in Houston that day had been 80º. The inside temperature of our room was at least that high… and the air conditioner didn’t work. Not didn’t work efficiently; it had no power, no lights, no action, no nothing. Rick trooped back down to get another room ( after hearing from a hotel employee in the elevator, “We’re all booked, I’m not sure we’ll have anything else”) and we moved across the hall.

Fearing a repeat of the shuttle bottleneck in the morning, we got up at 6 and met our young friend in the lobby at 6:45. Alas, the first shuttle was already full, and we had to settle for the second. After clearing security, we redeemed some vouchers for breakfast, and waited for our plane.

The departure time kept changing, as did the gate. After trooping across the airport again (!) and seeing the departure time being pushed further and further, Rick noticed on the airline’s app that the flight had been cancelled. We sprinted to the service center to confirm this fact and to rebook. Apparently, the gate didn’t get notified about the cancellation right away, because we were at the head of the queue this time. Even so, it took a half-hour to get another flight. We had confirmed seats on our original flight, one day later, at 9:35 pm, and standby tickets for another flight at 1:40 pm.

When it came down to it, we were in positions 6, 7, and 8 on the standby list. They took six standby passengers (including our young friend). We were destined to wait again. The flight eventually departed over an hour late; we got to Minneapolis early on Wednesday morning; we took a taxi home; we fell into bed at 2:30 am. Exhausted. Vowing never again to fly through Houston (adding it to our list of Denver and Chicago) during the holidays. Rick had been in communication with his jobs (he was scheduled to work both on Tuesday) and had alerted them that he would not be available for work that day. He even struggled to get there by noon on Wednesday.

Judy heard from our young friend that she had made it safely home, and that she really appreciated our support during the trial we shared. It has been a tough year for her, and this new trauma was enough to spill over in her emotions. We were glad to be able to befriend her in her time of need. And as such, “in all things to give thanks,” even for problems in Houston.