Lobby blogging

Look, Ma.  We're blogging in North Olmsted, Ohio in the lobby of the local Hampton Inn.  All the comforts of home except for the big one:  No puddies on the keyboard

Computer set up facing the TV -- tuned to FOXNews!  Computer screen hermetically sealed below a glass table top (pictures tomorrow when we get home) with keyboard on a slide-out tray.  We've got our mock-omelet-and-sausage breakfast sandwich at hand and a fresh cup of "robust " coffee.

Just checking in for now (a nervous fellow rudely slurping down his cereal is hanging over us -- wants to check his email, and the other computer here isn't working). Grieving relatives doing well.  Lots of warm rebonding at the wake last night after a hellish day of travel that took us way out to Chicago before we ever touched down back in Cleveland.  What with waiting and various wrong turns, it was 12 hours from our doorstep yesterday morning to the funeral home door for the wake yesterday evening. Tuck noted we would have gotten here sooner had we driven. A time to unwind later on at a local pub. Over and out.

Update:  The hovering man has gone away now, so we can talk. We'd told him we were blogging about him, and a blankish look came over his face before he made some snarky remark about how "you people" write a lot of comments and criticisms about whatever you want, don't you?  Yes, we do, sir, and we are putting the mainstream media's feet to the fire.  He looked unconvinced. What would you expect of an impatient man who slurps his cereal in hotel lobbies?

Comments

[Teresa]

Oh good heavens... that's the kind of travel days I have! I always figure if the drive is 6 hours or less - it's faster to go by car. It's a tougher call when it's about 8-10 hours though. :-)

[Sissy Willis]

The return trip, on the other hand, went like clockwork and ended in a turbulent, heartstopping landing where we never saw anything out the window -- not even the wing at times -- but white cloudiness till we were just feet from the tarmac. I was reminded -- as always upon touchdown -- of what a pilot sitting beside me on a small plane flying from Hong Kong to Singapore once told me about landings: They're nothing but "controlled skids."

On the way out of the plane this afternoon, the pilot was there, wishing us well. I told him it had been thrilling, brilliant, and he beamed. Those flyboys are real pistons!