TOUCHDOWN

Touchdown didn't seem as relevant to me as it did to my 14 year old as he excitedly muttered it in the snowstorm on the small tarmack of Adria Airlines. Out of touch, and upward was what I was looking for.

When we made the decision to accept the offer to spend the semester in Slovenia, it seemed like the perfect escape to the unknown. The previous two years had been wrought with illness and turmoil, and we were desparate to get away from mid-life.

So, with too much luggage, filled with too many seemingly unecessary items ( afterall, what is "necessary" in Slovenia? ) we had finally made it to the last leg of the trip -- a jaunt from Frankfurt to Ljubljana.

Turqoise and black are the official colors of the Slovenian Airline, Adria, and those colors adjacent to gray leather seats, a beautiful black haired flight attendant, and another suave gay one, made it immediately apparent that Slovenians had very good taste, and money, somewhere. So in an attempt to be as inconspicuous as possible, the five of us, and our 10 luggage items, quickly sat down in the first row. "This is something like you call Business Class", said the lovely female attendant in a polite, and beautifully accented English. "Yes" she continued, "there are plenty of the seats in the back of the plane for to choose from".

I wondered how she knew we weren't booked in "business class". I imagine our

pack-like appearance had given us away.

The airport tourism campaign capitalized on the LOVE in Slovenia, and that was exactly

the feeling I was having as we walked into the airport from the skyway.

Everything was pristine, with marble floors, leather chairs, a high-end children's play area,

and little glassed-in smoking boxes. Hippolyta, my 10 year old immediately pronounced that this trip was "meant to be". I didn't know how to respond exactly. For better or worse, beauty has always spoken to her.

Our luggage had been right there, beside the plane, on the tarmack in Frankfurt, but now was no where to be found. The only problem with that, other than dirty clothes and teeth for an unknown duration, was that

my 5 year old's stock of cashmere was in those suitcases. We would need them soon, as the

pink one from the plane was now filthy. Jia is addicted to cashmere for comfort and self-soothing. We had packed a green, two brown, a plum, and a mustard "sveter" - which, when packing, had reminded us of the game "Clue". And we had packed her so called back up cashmere items as well. They included a pink scarf, a lavendar mini skirt, and a yellow piece of a sweater. They all have a story. The pink mini skirt was a 20 dollar 8 inch long Calvin Klein from TJ Maxx, with the original $450 price tag tucked inside. The yellow sweater, was mine before my husband let Jia use it one day when her favorite was no where to be found. She left it in the car that night and it was completely sleeveless the next day. Months later Hippolyta found a yellow mouse nest under the back car seat.