Hi, I’m here in Chicago right now, on one of my two double beds, watching a crime show. I don’t even like crime shows, but that’s all this hotel seems to get.
I flew Monday, met with the client Tuesday and today. I was so happy when they said today’s meeting resolved all their questions they had from me, and I would not have to stay tomorrow 1/2 Friday morning, as planned.
This evening my co worker and I went walking, to look for someplace for dinner, and noticed picketers outside the hotel. So we stopped and asked them what the strike was for. They said that the Congress Plaza hotel where we were staying offered no benefits, paid employees $5 less than comparable hotels did, and had a several-years’ wage freeze on them. They must just hold their picket line not very often, because I’ve been here 3 days and this is the first I’ve seen of it.
Last weekend, my husband and two kids and I went camping. We had to buy a tent. We’d never camped before and didn’t have one! Friday night we joined some of my husband’s friends, many of them families with children, at a group camp ground near Rogers, MN. This same group gets has this camping trip once every summer. We met several of them in college, back when they all used to play Dungeons and Dragons board games. Now that’s grown in to writing and play acting their own RPG’s.
Our kids hung out at a camp fire and ate hot dogs while we played along with the gamers. Paul has played this with them before, but it was my first time. The team who put this game together created a “train” by lining up picnic tables and screened tents, and assigned everyone roles as passengers or employees on the train. I was the porter. I agreed to play, thinking they all sit around board games and roll dice, not expecting the “How to Host a Murder” experience , and also not expecting it to go past midnight. I have to admit I didn’t do much, unless one of the game moderators came over to me with a suggestion, like “here’s where you ask anyone if they’ve lost any luggage,” or “here’s where you invite everyone to a party in the dining car.” Occasionally one or both of my kids would follow along behind me and ask when are we going home.
We drove home at midnight, because the game was still going on, and I didn’t want our 13 year old daughter to be too tired for her fencing lesson in the morning. Too late. She woke up sobbing when we told her it was time to wake up on Saturday morning, so we let her miss class anyway.
Saturday we bought a tent, groceries, packed up the sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, and dog. We both drive Saturn sedans, so we had to take both cars just to take all the people and stuff, and buy a tent at Gander Mountain on the way.
We almost got a divorce just trying to follow the tent set up instructions, but the children enjoyed going inside it when we were done. We let out 8 year old son bring his gameboy which attracted other boys about his age who wanted to watch over his shoulder and take turns with him.
Other people are gourmet camp fire chefs! Our hot dogs looked pretty bad next to the elaborate stews and steaks other people cooked!
I swore I wouldn’t play that night’s game, but they started complaining that they didn’t have enough people to play all the parts , so I changed my mind. The theme was that the Earth had established a colony on the moon, and I was the teen aged secret inventor of an addictive, intoxicating drug, in chewing gum form. Children as young as apparently about 8 played, but neither of my children were interested. I was happy to see one couple I went to college with, their 12 year old autistic son played!
I think I was a lot more realistic about what to expect this time, so I played along a lot better, played all the way to the end, and attended the camp fire rap up meeting afterwards.
We came back to our tent to find both our children already asleep on opposite sides of our tent. There was just enough room in our tent for the 4 of us to lay side by side, with our dog sleeping at our feet.
My husband played volley ball with everyone the next day. I didn’t. I got my son and some of the children to play a game I only recently heard called “Texas Horse Shoes”, in which players have a small rope with a golf ball at each end, and have to throw it so that it lands on one of three bars of an upright goal post. My in laws gave it to us for Christmas, so we had brought it with us.
Well I’ll be glad to be able to go home tomorrow. I’m going to take the “train” to the airport. There’s an elevated train stop just a few blocks from here, and it goes all the way to Midway airport, so I’ll be riding it like a native, tomorrow morning!
I never was able to get on the “free wi fi” Chicago is supposed to have, so I was never able to connect to the internet from my room. I could connect fine, from the client’s office. But I’m writing this on Microsoft word , and will have to past it in to blogger, when I can get on the internet some time. There is a thunderstorm now, and it has disabled the cable or satellite tv I was watching. I got to watch Martin Short get caught as a murderer by Ice Tea, on Law and Order, but I’ll never know the end of the National Geographic special about murderous jailed white supremists.
I flew Monday, met with the client Tuesday and today. I was so happy when they said today’s meeting resolved all their questions they had from me, and I would not have to stay tomorrow 1/2 Friday morning, as planned.
This evening my co worker and I went walking, to look for someplace for dinner, and noticed picketers outside the hotel. So we stopped and asked them what the strike was for. They said that the Congress Plaza hotel where we were staying offered no benefits, paid employees $5 less than comparable hotels did, and had a several-years’ wage freeze on them. They must just hold their picket line not very often, because I’ve been here 3 days and this is the first I’ve seen of it.
Last weekend, my husband and two kids and I went camping. We had to buy a tent. We’d never camped before and didn’t have one! Friday night we joined some of my husband’s friends, many of them families with children, at a group camp ground near Rogers, MN. This same group gets has this camping trip once every summer. We met several of them in college, back when they all used to play Dungeons and Dragons board games. Now that’s grown in to writing and play acting their own RPG’s.
Our kids hung out at a camp fire and ate hot dogs while we played along with the gamers. Paul has played this with them before, but it was my first time. The team who put this game together created a “train” by lining up picnic tables and screened tents, and assigned everyone roles as passengers or employees on the train. I was the porter. I agreed to play, thinking they all sit around board games and roll dice, not expecting the “How to Host a Murder” experience , and also not expecting it to go past midnight. I have to admit I didn’t do much, unless one of the game moderators came over to me with a suggestion, like “here’s where you ask anyone if they’ve lost any luggage,” or “here’s where you invite everyone to a party in the dining car.” Occasionally one or both of my kids would follow along behind me and ask when are we going home.
We drove home at midnight, because the game was still going on, and I didn’t want our 13 year old daughter to be too tired for her fencing lesson in the morning. Too late. She woke up sobbing when we told her it was time to wake up on Saturday morning, so we let her miss class anyway.
Saturday we bought a tent, groceries, packed up the sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, and dog. We both drive Saturn sedans, so we had to take both cars just to take all the people and stuff, and buy a tent at Gander Mountain on the way.
We almost got a divorce just trying to follow the tent set up instructions, but the children enjoyed going inside it when we were done. We let out 8 year old son bring his gameboy which attracted other boys about his age who wanted to watch over his shoulder and take turns with him.
Other people are gourmet camp fire chefs! Our hot dogs looked pretty bad next to the elaborate stews and steaks other people cooked!
I swore I wouldn’t play that night’s game, but they started complaining that they didn’t have enough people to play all the parts , so I changed my mind. The theme was that the Earth had established a colony on the moon, and I was the teen aged secret inventor of an addictive, intoxicating drug, in chewing gum form. Children as young as apparently about 8 played, but neither of my children were interested. I was happy to see one couple I went to college with, their 12 year old autistic son played!
I think I was a lot more realistic about what to expect this time, so I played along a lot better, played all the way to the end, and attended the camp fire rap up meeting afterwards.
We came back to our tent to find both our children already asleep on opposite sides of our tent. There was just enough room in our tent for the 4 of us to lay side by side, with our dog sleeping at our feet.
My husband played volley ball with everyone the next day. I didn’t. I got my son and some of the children to play a game I only recently heard called “Texas Horse Shoes”, in which players have a small rope with a golf ball at each end, and have to throw it so that it lands on one of three bars of an upright goal post. My in laws gave it to us for Christmas, so we had brought it with us.
Well I’ll be glad to be able to go home tomorrow. I’m going to take the “train” to the airport. There’s an elevated train stop just a few blocks from here, and it goes all the way to Midway airport, so I’ll be riding it like a native, tomorrow morning!
I never was able to get on the “free wi fi” Chicago is supposed to have, so I was never able to connect to the internet from my room. I could connect fine, from the client’s office. But I’m writing this on Microsoft word , and will have to past it in to blogger, when I can get on the internet some time. There is a thunderstorm now, and it has disabled the cable or satellite tv I was watching. I got to watch Martin Short get caught as a murderer by Ice Tea, on Law and Order, but I’ll never know the end of the National Geographic special about murderous jailed white supremists.
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