March 15th, 2006

Dead Dog Cat

Sunday

Breakfast again with the group from the Dorsai Irregulars, sitting with a new group. We had plenty of time to sit and chew the fat with old friends, and we made several new ones. Very pleasant. Most of the Irregulars were slowly checking out of the hotel; we had other plans for the day.

First we went to Joliet to visit forestcats brother, his wife, and our niece and nephew. The adults were pleasant enough, and we chatted for a while, but the kids waited long to see us, disappeared quickly, and resisted saying goodbye. *sigh*

Then, we drove from Joliet to Evanston, the opposite side of town. There, we joined Natalie and Mark; they attended our wedding, over a decade passed, and then we were able to meet them in San Diego some months back, for dinner. We sat and chatted while Mark did some outstanding cooking; they called their teen daughters downstairs, and we ate some marvelous food. And we chatted, and chatted, and chatted. It was terrific. I can only hope that they'll find an excuse to visit soon.

Back to the hotel, and drop off to sleep, quickly...
Dead Dog Cat

Monday

One more breakfast. I swear, I almost never eat breakfast, but we just didn't seem to miss it last weekend.

After we ate, we tooled over to the Edwardo's Pizza place down in Printer's Row, and picked up the pizzas that we were bringing home; frozen, and we brought a cooler to carry them in. The young lady behind the counter mentioned that she had brothers in Lake Elsinore who are thinking about opening a pizzeria that would shoot for making them Chicago-style; she took our number and promised to let us know if and when it'll happen.

Our next stop was in River Forest, quite near Frank Lloyd Wright's studio: the Passovoy's home. Bob was rounding at the hospital (a fate I can understand); Christopher was asleep; Robin was shopping. We were able to chat for a while with Ann and Gillian, while paying homage to the braver felines. Later, Bob showed us a magnificent koi pond; it's not for no reason that he's the President of the MidWest society for that hobby. His filter system is decked out exactly the way you'd expect to see in a Mad Scientist's laboratory. They gave us a fine sendoff; we were convinced, thanks to the Internet, that all was well with our flight, although the winds were particularly troubling.

Unfortunately, the Internet lied, because American Airlines didn't bother to change the facts in their computers, that the flights were having trouble arriving, due to the winds. Our flight through Dallas would now be arriving after our flight to Ontario left, and there wouldn't be another flight out to Ontario until the next day. So, what then? We changed our flight to LAX; we arranged a pickup by an angel ( cheekychristine ), and then we struggled to confirm that our baggage had gotten aboard.

So then it was a restful flight thereafter, I hear you thinking.

NO.

A poor lady fainted aboard the plane, and I took over her care. She was sufficiently stable that I didn't have to tell the pilot to get us on the ground immediately, which would likely have put us in Phoenix or Las Vegas, which would have been very irritating, but instead she got paramedics at LAX. I had to fill out forms (what else did I have to do at 10PM?), but our luggage did arrive, and our angel scooped us up; soon we were home.

Unpack; drive to Ontario to get forestcats truck; unpack some more. Collapse.
Dead Dog Cat

(no subject)

Yesterday was devoted to finishing unpacking, getting a haircut, and going to wood carving class. During the latter, since I'd accidentally left the bear that I'd been carving at home, I was given a chip carving project with a scene of a bird on a branch. I actually finished the carving, more or less, with only a blister on one finger to complain of. Next time around, I'll have to put some sort of finish on it, and we'll see how it looks.

Back to work today.
Dead Dog Cat

(no subject)

I've been asked, earlier this last week, who the Dorsai Irregulars are.

Back in 1973, Francis Kelley Freas, a well-known SF artist, was showing a variety of his works at an SF convention. A number of his works were stolen. At that time, convention security was mostly non-existent, as most of fandom felt that all fans were family, and you don't steal from family. From this, a group of fans gathered, later getting Gordon R. Dickson's permission to use the Dorsai name to provide convention security, primarily for the Art Shows at cons, but not exclusively. For Star Trek conventions, the group put on a different type of uniform, and played as the Klingon Diplomatic Corps.

It's been over thirty years; they still do a number of conventions back East, and they have a party at least once a year, called Dorsai Thing. At it, they all get together, along with various friends and hangers-on, and they eat, drink, chat, swim, and sing (many of them are top quality filk singers).

Any questions?