Today I got two exercises in pilot decision-making, for free!

I was scheduled to do my long solo cross-country flight, flying from Hammond to Baton Rouge, then to Lafayette, then back to Hammond; about 170 miles in all. We had to cancel on Friday because the weather has continued to be crap as it has been for the past few weeks, but as I awoke this morning I found that there wasn't a single cloud in the sky. It was like a magical little window had been opened up in the never-ending series of summer thunderstorms, just for me. It looked like I'd actually get to go up to my planned altitude (4500 feet westbound and 5500 feet eastbound), where the air is nice and cool, rather than sweating it out at 2000 feet to stay under the clouds, like I had to do on my first solo cross-country flight to Gulfport.

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Yesterday before doing some solo flying, Mike and I flew up to Sycamore (the flight school's mechanic's grass strip) to deliver an airplane part they needed. I got to try another soft/short field landing, and we delivered the part. He's got a nice setup out there. I wouldn't mind living somewhere like that — in a house out away from town, on a field bordered by forest, with a grass strip and a few hangars attached to your house.

I taxied out to the end of the strip and prepared to take off again. As I was running through my checklist, a butterfly floated up out of the taller grass bordering the airstrip. I thought to myself what a pleasant setting this was, and just sat and watching the buttefly for a bit, enjoying the peaceful moment.

And then the butterfly fluttered straight into my propeller and disappeared in a puff of yellow. :(