It wasn't supposed to snow in Cleveland on the first weekend in April. Cleveland wasn't supposed to be buried under intermittent blizzards that delayed my morning flight out of Chicago such that I missed the noon flight to Hartford by ten minutes. And, of course, the Cleveland airport goes utterly dead on Saturday afternoons anyway, so the next flight to Hartford was at six in the evening. I took it, because anything is better than being stuck overnight in Cleveland (Detroit without the glamor), but only after exhausting all possibilities, even trying for flights to Boston or Providence. Nothing was flying out of Cleveland to New England all afternoon.
So I got the thrill of spending six hours in the Cleveland airport. Whoopee. Of course, I missed the seder. But they did save me some dinner, and I did get to see various and sundry Ponies, if only for the remains of the evening and this morning at the Matzo Brei Breakfast. That was something, at least.
I think perhaps I shall go to Lithuania next summer.