I'm sitting in the O'Hare Admiralty Club waiting for my next connection on the way to StempelMekka in Germany. I always feel so special in here. There's a woman curled up in a chair near me, and she's kicked off her shoes and one sock has a BIG hole in it. This made me feel really good, which probably doesn't say much for my moral fibre, but this has been an unfortunately typical travel day for me...up at dark-thirty, grabbed everthing lined up at the door and was almost on my way, but was halted at the last moment by a ralphing Cosmos. Cleaned up the mess, swore a bit at the dog (who just stood there wagging his tail; HIS issue was over)...so of course I forgot my itinerary. Therefore, couldn't check my luggage all the way, and had to claim and re-check it in Seattle. Then there was some sort of security whoopsie at the airport and everyone had been evacuated from the "sterile area", so we all had to go through Security again. Just barely made the flight. Then I tried to board the wrong plane in Seattle. Yup, this is about "normal" for me. I'm amazed that I can dress myself. I'm convinced that some day I'll be found wandering some city's street lacking some vital garment.
I didn't find tie to post my pics of the Bluegrass festival, so they'll have to wait until I get home next week. it was a grand time. I took a mandolin and banjo workshops. The banjo and I are getting along fine, but this may be a love/hate sorta relationship with the mandolin. Creighton spent his days polishing the chrome on the Scotty and listening to the bands. I hadn't even noticed that the Scotty needed polishing, but it kept him occupied. He wasn't much of a Bluegrass fan previously, and I think we may have now lost him entirely. I think the Gospel Bluegrass pushed him right over the edge. "I'm using my Bible as a roadmap; Heaven is my last stop".
See ya here next week!