Adventure!

Jeff and Reema aren’t entirely unpacked, but they have officially moved in to a house in Austin, TX. Will I forgive them for moving away? Jury’s still out. Will I visit? Certainly. Will my amazing husband scheme with them and figure out an awesome Labor Day weekend event to celebrate my birthday? Turns out, yes. To that end, we arrived in Austin on Saturday via a “luxury coach” (big, red bus) that deposited us a block and a half from our hotel. 

Saturday night, he got the old band back together, so to speak. It was me, Cas, Jeff, Reema and our old pals from the Italy trip, Jon and Nicci. He also got my dad and my other brother, Dan to join the party. Cas and I met up with Jon and Nicci first, stopping at a tiki bar on Sixth Street. A pair of zombies later (rum+juice+fire, for some reason), we were off to another spot. Dad and Dan showed up and trekked with us, eventually heading to Jon and Nicci’s favorite Italian place in downtown Austin. 

More adventuring and a little walkabout landed us at a hotel bar, mostly because the really happening spots were loud and filled with recently released football fans from the UT/Rice game. We stuck around there until it was time to head to one of my Austin favorites, Esther’s Follies. It’s often risqué, sometimes raunchy and always hilarious. Part vaudeville, part magic show and part musical theater, Esther’s is something I came to appreciate decades ago when I would attend a teaching conference with my mom in the springtime.  

The show was a blast, and afterwards, we were all tired.  It may have something to do with the fact that we picked the late show, and it started at nine. For us, it was back to the hotel, down for the count and up for a morning workout on Sunday. We’d developed a last minute plan to head to the LBJ presidential library, but the timing didn’t work. No worries; we’ll be back. Instead, we headed to Jeff’s house. We hadn’t seen it yet, so a trip there was in the offing. Besides, I’m certain their dog missed us. Upon further investigation, I can safely say he did. Fritz is a big, dopey German shepherd who would trip over his own tail if it was long enough. What he lacks in intellect, he makes up for with his uncanny ability to be in the exact wrong place at the exact wrong time. Regardless, he had to give me and Cas a good sniff, so it was clearly a command performance. 

From Jeff and Reema’s house, we went to the Oasis on Lake Travis. I love the Oasis. They call themselves the sunset capital of Texas. The place has terraced balconies, and they all aim toward the setting sun. The blockade of large umbrellas is gradually removed as the sun sinks lower in the sky, so by the time of actual sunset, everyone can see. And everyone claps when the sun dips all the way down. They used to ring a bell to mark the event- not sure when they stopped doing that. 

Here’s the whole dang crew: 

And that brings us back to doe. We’re on our luxury coach, headed back to Dallas.  Something happens when you travel and meet new people. You pick up things and add their words to your vocabulary. You assimilate pieces of language and expressions. You become a proper Star Trek Borg, and you add the words to your own collective- resistance is futile. Nicci gave us the habit of enthusiastically saying,“Adventure!” when heading off to play. That was this weekend. Adventure! I’ll hop back on here in a while and update when Cas makes a photo album, but until then, have adventures of your own, and we’ll catch up next time! 

Okay, okay- we’ll go back to work

It’s certainly time to head back to Dallas and get back to work.  I know it seems crazy-headed how school starts earlier each year.  This time around, the kids come back on August 14th.  I have to go in on August 3rd.  That was a concession the District made- on the original calendar, the teacher return date was August 1st.  Unconscionable.  I know.  All I can say is it’s a darn good thing I like my job.  

So, with that in mind, we’ve jammed our dirty t-shirts into our backpacks and we’re headed out of the hotel door in a few.  Yesterday was the big reunion.  I saw again or met for the first time a whole bunch of my dad’s cousins.  There was way too much food, complete with cousin Rita’s homemade pies made with the berries her husband picked.  Most of the folks present were in my dad’s generation, but there were a few younger than me.  That part of the day was really not for me, though.  It was for Dad and his siblings to catch up with the cousins they saw every summer as children.  My grandpa was a teacher, and for two weeks every summer, he’d load up all of his kids in Rochester to head to the farm in Indiana.  

After the cousin time, Cas and I needed to decompress a little, and a few folks were talking seriously about a nap.  It’s been a big weekend.  We all went our separate ways for a bit, returning for a meal and a fireworks show.  Apparently, Jane and Doug were the ones setting off the rather impressive display out in the field.  I was back at a safe distance with other observers.  Regardless, it was a whole lot of fun.  Cas has some photos of the fireworks, and I am sure they’ll get into the photo album- they were from a roadside stand, and they were really elaborate and impressive.  

But, like I said, we’re headed back now- mission accomplished.  We discussed the trip, and we agreed on the following:

Best part: The Cubs game

Most surprising thing: The burlesque dancer

Best food: three way tie between the potato pancakes, the Chicago style hot dog and the very fresh Indiana corn on the cob

And because there’s always a photo in these things, enjoy the very green drive we took to dad’s cousin’s house:

We just have to give back a rental car, head to the airport and return to our regularly scheduled lives.  This was a fun trip, and I am happy to have seen everyone.  Until next time, folks- and of course, enjoy the photos: https://tinyurl.com/DunlapChicago

Little pink houses

We have a rental car, and we didn’t spring for any extra frills, so we were exploring local FM radio.  It was pretty much what you’d expect.  We found a station that played music suitable for our Gen-X ears, and just after we crossed the border from Illinois to Indiana, a John Mellencamp song came on.  That was just about perfect.  We drove past corn and soybeans, popped into a truck stop for a coffee and a snack, then found our hotel just off the highway.  It’s about ten minutes away from the farm house where dad and all of his siblings are staying.  They were in Indianapolis picking up one last sibling from the airport when we got into town, but it wasn’t too long before we were all assembled.  The six of them came to this house and left their spouses at home, so what Cas and I got to see was the original crew.  Just listening to the flow of conversation and watching them as stories bounced from brother to sister and back was truly something to behold.  Each of them- my Dad, my aunts and my uncles- is impressive on his or her own, but assembled together, the six of them are something entirely different.  The two words that came to mind were comfort and joy.  From where I was sitting, they seemed truly happy to be all together and completely comfortable settling back into their brothers-and-sisters routine.  We had a nice dinner, complete with the required corn on the cob, then sat for a while around the fire pit.  

This place is lovely- green and lush and bursting with vegetables sprouting up from the ground.  When we checked into our room, I opened the shades and looked out the window.  A field was behind the building; I think it was a field of soybeans.  Right next to that was a John Deere dealership.  If you need a new tractor around these parts, I suspect you come to this neighborhood.  I half expected to look out the window and see Jack and Diane outside the Tastee Freez or little pink houses for you and me.  No dice.  Still, in terms of Indiana views, the tractor dealership and a field of soybeans pretty much fulfills my expectations.  

We’re headed to one of my dad’s cousin’s houses today, where I suspect I will see many people who look a lot like me.  After that, we hit the hay, get up early and take the rental car back to Chicago.  We’ll head back to our house and get ready for the school year.  Here, though, is a pretty neat picture of Cas, checking out the weeping willow tree at the farmhouse.  Can’t you smell the fresh air from here? 

As always, the photo album: https://tinyurl.com/DunlapChicago

Pirating ain’t easy- but it’s not that HAAARRRD

Okay, we’re in a rental car on the way to Crawfordsville, Indiana.  Now, I have a moment to talk about piracy.  When the Cubs game was over, we shuffled out.  There’s no other way to describe it- the crowd moved at a shuffle, not a walk or a stroll.  We shuffled right up to Murphy’s Bleachers, a spot we learned about on our last visit to Wrigleyville, but since there was a stream of people flowing in the door and nobody leaving, we kept walking.  Too crowded.  In fact, everything nearby was too crowded.  We walked a bit down the road, found a spot that sold margaritas and the Americanized version of Mexican food, and we had a seat to plan out our next moves.  

We made our way back to the train, then to a bus, then to the Navy Pier.  We spent a moment at a rooftop bar, then grabbed a few street tacos on the way to the boarding location.  We had to be there 15 minutes early to board the Tall Ship Windy for the Pirates Pub Sail.  The staff was appropriately pirate-ish in its attire, and the ship looked the part.  We boarded and waited for departure, then we got our complimentary rum drinks.  There was a moment when the crew asked for volunteers who wanted to hoist the mizzen sail.  Cas and several others complied, and I volunteered to film him doing it.  By the time the sail really got going, though, it looked a lot like Cas was doing it himself.  He said it wasn’t Haaarrrd.  Yar!  

The ship had a DJ, an addition to the crew that I found entirely unnecessary.  He played a few sea shanties, which were fun and silly, but he moved on to songs blended with other songs- Fleetwood Mac with a hop hop beat.  Eurythmics with whatever pop princess that was- it was just not very good, but we were encouraged about a dozen times to come and dance, and we were also instructed to follow him on Instagram.  The trip would have been a bit better if we’d given the speakers the old heave ho.  

Regardless, the view was pretty spectacular.  It was a two hour sail with a look back at the city, and we were there for it.  It almost got chilly toward the end of the voyage, as we wrapped it up around 11.  It’s hard to wrap my brain around chilly weather in July.  I guess I am a real Texan, after all.  

When that was done, we were, too.  We took a bus back to a train station, and after a little bit of maneuvering, we were back to our hotel.  

This morning, we had a bagel sandwich from a really neat shop near our car rental spot- The Chicago Bagel Authority was good food, made quickly to a soundtrack of Metallica and Black Sabbath, which we did not expect.  We’re on the path to see my dad’s side of the family, now, but I wanted to backtrack and tell you about Cas’ favorite moment from the game.  I had him dictate it to me, so these are his exact words: 

There was a moment in the top of the eighth- the Cubs were leading 4-3 and St. Louis was batting.  They got the bases loaded with one out. They brought out a designated hitter, and you could just feel the tension- and almost dread in the air as St. Louis was about to take the lead. Then, he hit a grounder that the shortstop got to in mid-stride as he went to tag second, then he whipped it over to first for a double play, and the crowd went berserk.  It was just something about the tension in the air and the heroic save. 

So there it is, Cas’ favorite moment from yesterday at Wrigley.  I wanted to get his voice in here, as he tells it so well.  

We’re driving past cornfields and so much green.  We just passed as sign for a buffalo viewing area.  We’re in Indiana, all right.  So, for now, have a look at our photo album, and we’ll catch up later. https://tinyurl.com/DunlapChicago

The friendly confines

Legendary Chicago Cubs first baseman Ernie Banks was the one who came up with the nickname.  He called Wrigley Field “The friendly confines,” and the name stuck.  Signs, t-shirts, sportscasters- you’ll see and hear the clever turn of phrase all around Wrigleyville.  The last time Cas ad I were in Chicago, we had a tour of Wrigley, but there were no home games on while we were in town.  This time, we remedied that, returning to the friendly confines of Wrigley Field to see the Chicago Cubs take on the St. Louis Cardinals.  We went all in on a fully Chicago experience too.  We went to the station for the red line train, where we were greeted by a Cubs-logo branded crowd of people waiting to head the same way.  There was a man singing for tip money at the station, and when his song ended, he loudly announced which direction the train to Wrigley Field would go, telling everyone that the train the other way would take you to a Sox game, and they were not playing any home games for several days, if you went that way, he warned, you’d have to wait quite a while to see a baseball game.  The train came and we all piled in. Every seat was full as we pulled away, but at subsequent stops, I saw the passengers uniformly exhibit kindness.  Here’s an empty seat- would you like it?  No, I’ll move so folks can sit together.  Sir, here- have this seat; my stop is coming soon.  The sense of community that I felt all afternoon at the ballpark was there on that train.  There is some magic about the friendly confines- I felt like part of the community during that game.  

And what a game!  The complaint I hear over and over about baseball is that it’s too slow.  This game kept the whole crowd interested.  It was dramatic, bringing the crowd to its feet on several occasions.  The last inning had me holding my breath.  The score never got lopsided.  There were great, amazing plays in the outfield that you thought were impossible followed by a series of drops and misses that I called a comedy of errors.  The Cubs starting pitcher was followed by four relievers.  Four.  The whole time, the game kept us guessing.  There were two home runs- the ball went way out into the stands, which I honestly haven’t seen that often in my baseball-watching life.  The Cubs fans were good-natured, too.  There were plenty of folks in the crowd wearing St. Louis jerseys and t-shirts, but they were subject only to the gentlest of ribbing and sass.  

And of course, there’s Wrigley FIeld itself.  The second oldest ballpark in the Major Leagues, it felt like baseball is supposed to feel.  I big-puffy-heart-loved the old ballpark in Arlington where the Rangers played for years, and when the team announced they were building a new one, I was both puzzled and devastated.  I suspect the players are appreciating the retractable roof and the climate control these days, but Wrigley is a lesson in preserving what is good and proper.  Wrigley felt as cozy as a 40,000+ seat ballpark could feel.  And for a Friday afternoon, regular season game, it was pretty full.  There were over 38,800 people there with us.  Entering was hard.  Exiting was crowded.  Being there in our seats, though, was magical.  We were on a row where the family with lots of kids apologized on the way past our seats for the number of kids they had along and the inevitable bathroom trips that would come.  The couple next to us was all decked out in Cubs gear.  The family in front of us were in Cardinals attire, but nobody seemed too bothered.  They just cheered at the wrong times, that’s all.  

We stood for the National Anthem, and a local woman sang it beautifully.  I don’t love it when folks put too much flare and warble into the rocket’s red glare.  She was good.  We got hot dogs- proper Chicago dogs.  I found myself referring to the Cubs as though they were my team.  We need this out!  We’re changing pitchers again.  In the seventh inning stretch, we had a former player lead us in Take me out to the ballgame, and that was great, too.  At the end, when the Cubs won, it was after a very nail-biting top of the ninth where the last out was at the plate, and he got a base hit!  The next batter was poised to really screw things up for Chicago, but the ball was caught in the infield and the batter was thrown out at first.  This would normally bing a crowd to its feet, but we were already there.  What I didn’t know was the song- not that it was hard to learn- but the whole crowd sings along and most folks stay put until it’s over.  They lyrics are 

Go, Cubs, go / Go, Cubs, go / In Chicago, what do you say / The Cubs are gonna win today

Sure, it’s not Shakespeare, but the poetry of the song lyrics wasn’t the impressive part.  The impressive part was that the entire crowd was on its feet, singing along and for the most part, not moving toward the exits until the song ended.  I caught a little bit of audio here, have a listen: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1rdQKNY6s05-4PnPZrcouYq6cqgZqp8gq/view?usp=drivesdk

We streamed out after that with the rest of the crowd.  What a game.  In the words of Harry Caray, Holy Cow.  

I jumped right into the Cubs game, didn’t I?  Sorry, but it was pretty great.  I failed to mention breakfast.  We started our day at Lou Michell’s, which is nearly as old as Wrigley Field.  The breakfast was good, the atmosphere was exactly perfect, and the portions were way too big.  It was a proper diner- booths and counter service, check and check.  The waitress we had did her job with such fluid motions that it seemed she may have been born there.  They bake all their own pastries, boast the best coffee (In Chicago?  In the world?  I can’t remember.)  and do it all very well.  The sweet roll came highly recommended, and with it, Cas and I have had all of the sugar we need for the rest of July.  Maybe August, too.  We shared that and a breakfast sandwich, and everything was great.  Lou Mitchell’s boasts it location at the end of Route 66, which was interesting, as we had been to a much farther down the line point of Route 66 on our spring break adventure heading to the Grand Canyon.  Very cool.  

I need to wrap for now on this entry and leave you hanging about the pirate ship.  It’s not a deliberate effort to build suspense; it’s just time to work out and shower so we can get to the next thing.  I promise, I will tell you all about our pirate adventures on Lake Michigan soon.  We have a three hour drive to Crawfordsville coming up in the late morning, so that should be plenty of time to hoist the sails and tell the tales.  

For now, here are photos: https://tinyurl.com/DunlapChicago

Ship shape

Yesterday, we decided to have a breakfast by the river.  There are restaurants that face the Chicago River, but aren’t quite on the riverwalk.  They do have a great view, though, and we found one called the Land and Lake Kitchen.  The portions were a little too big, but the whole thing was amazing, right down to the last crumb of the homemade biscuit.  

Once breakfast was accomplished, it was time for another adventure in big-city public transportation.  This time, it was a city bus to the Museum of Science and Industry.  That was a cool museum, but Cas and I agreed on two things walking out.  First, They needed to divide the whole place into two or three different museums.  It was too much to take in.  Second, we’re done with museums for 2023.  No knock, but after a week and a half of unfettered Smithsonian access followed by this jaunt into another spectacular museum, we may have reached maximum knowledge and culture input.  

We started out walking through an exhibit largely about modes of transportation.  There were train cars, modern and historical vehicles and airplanes from days gone by.  They took a page from the Smithsonian and hung some of the aircraft from the ceiling.  We went there on the way to an exhibit about the coal mining industry.  This one took participants on an elevator down to show what the inner workings of coal mines looked like.  There were large, heavy mining machines and other tools of the industry, and the tour guide switched them on and off for us, so we could see what the work was like.  It was interesting, but all things being equal, I will stick to my school library, thank you.  

After that, we wandered other exhibits, including the one about the farming industry and the one with the fairy castle, which is essentially a giant dollhouse that’s been in the museum since 1949.  The duration of that exhibit is a curiosity on its own, but when you go have a look, you see that it’s something interesting an unusual.  Dollhouses were never really my thing, but this one was pretty grand.  No time to linger, though, because the time for our timed-entry tickets to a very interesting exhibit were coming right up.  We were going to walk around inside the only captured WWII German U-Boat.  

When you go to see the U-505, you’re sent through a series of displays that tell you how the German boats did their job during the war and what Herculean efforts the Allies went to in fighting them off.  The Germans were having tremendous luck with their submarines, and the Allies were having real trouble fighting them off.  The story of the capture and recovery of U-505 is really museum-worthy, but the big draw is the boat.  They have a massive hall in the museum with a high ceiling and a cutout in the floor where they have parked one entire German U-boat.  I wondered how they got it in there.  They had to either build the room around it or retrofit a massive hall and tear out a wall to put the boat in.  It was impressive- shaped specifically for a ship, in fact.  

After leaving there, we hopped back on bus number 10, switched to number 29 and headed to Navy Pier.  We’re getting the most out of our $15, three-day CTA passes, I can tell you that.  I wanted to ride the giant Ferris Wheel at the Pier- seemed like a great way to look at the city, the water and the pier itself.  But first, a very late lunch.  Or was it an early dinner.  Either way, it’s a good thing breakfast was so big, because we were good and hungry by the time we got to the Harry Caray Tavern.  

Harry Caray was, of course, the closest thing to Chicago royalty.  He was the voice that accompanied televised Chicago Cubs games for a very long time, and he was quite the character.  No doubt, we will walk past the statue of him later today when we head to Wrigley Field.  Out on the Pier, though, there is a restaurant bursting at the seams with autographed memorabilia, photos and other artifacts from a lifetime of baseball.  We sat outside, and I got a Chicago-style hot dog.  Cas got what they were calling a “Holy cow” burger.  We even used the Harry Caray photo filter that lets you don his signature glasses.  And, of course, there was a spot for a cute photo right out front.  Cas and I took advantage, and just because it’s me writing and not him, I get to make the corny joke- here goes: 

Look at this handsome guy I married!  What a catch!

I know, it was a corny joke, and what’s worse, I’m not even sorry.  

Moving on…

We went from there to the end of the pier, then halfway back to the place where the giant Ferris wheel sits.  We got our own carriage and a decent amount of time to rotate around the giant metal wheel and look out at the lake, the river, the skyline and the pier.  It was pretty great, and I really do appreciate that they let each group have its own carriage, even if it’s a group of two.  

When we got down from there, we decided to take advantage of the margaritas-to-go stand near the small live music stage.  With beverages in hand, we actually did both of the things we were trying to decide between.  We wanted to stay and enjoy the weather and the pier, but we also wanted to check out a blues club.  I can only speak for myself, but I was pretty wiped out, so when it turned out that we could listen to a Chicago blues band right there at the pier without getting on a bus or a train, it was a win.  

After an evening at the Navy Pier, we were done.  It was a little early, but our hotel has a terrace, where we could order a little bit of food and enjoy the weather.  I know I am making kind of a big deal about enjoying the weather, but after the walk-through-a-raincloud feeling we had the whole time in DC, we went home to Dallas where every day has been over 100 for what seems like ages.  Today, the high here isn’t even supposed to reach 80.  

So it’s Wrigley Field today, and a ride on a tall ship this evening, then we are off to Indiana tomorrow.  Considering we’ve only been in Chicago for under 48 hours, I feel like we’ve made the most of this visit so far.  

So, before I leave you here and go off to the next bit of adventure, let’s try out the experimental photo album, shall we?  The videos aren’t playing correctly from here, but that’s a problem to work out when we get home.  No time like a quick trip to sort out the details before we go on a much longer one next spring or summer.  Regardless, here are our photos: https://tinyurl.com/DunlapChicago

Now, it’s time to play ball. 

Queenie the cutie

One of the nonsense theories I once heard about why people are how they are has to do with a person’s earliest memory.  It went a little something like this- your personality is formed, to some extent, by the first song or story you can remember from childhood.  I don’t have a clue what that means if you grew up with Cinderella as the first story you recall versus The Wheels on the Bus as the first set of song lyrics that stuck in your head.  For me, though, this whole nonsense theory has a bit more intrigue, because the first strong memories of songs or stories I have are from my mom’s mom, Grandma Alice.  First of all, she had a movie star-sounding name.  Alice Faye DuBois.  It only stopped being super-glamorous when she married Louie Cushing.  Alice Faye, though- it’s a heck of a star-power-sounding name for that era, and she was quite entertaining.  She sang songs for me and my cousins, and they were almost always very silly.  In fact, the first one I remember was Queenie the Cutie.  

It was actually a song popularized but the Andrews Sisters called Strip Polka, and you can have a listen here, but it’s all about a burlesque show where a lovely lady named Queenie removes almost everything she’s wearing for the entertainment of a crowd.  

But Heather, why the bizarre childhood memory about your eccentric (if awesomely named) grandmother?  I know, I’m getting there.  It’s a slow-start kind of morning.  Here’s why- Cas had looked up several awesome Chicago activities prior to our departure from Dallas.  One of them was a historic pub crawl, but the official tour that takes you around town from one historically significant bar to another doesn’t get rolling until next month for some reason.  However, they posted their itinerary online.  Silly, silly tour group- we can read!  So we hijacked their itinerary.  We started where they would have- the Adams Street Brewery at the Berghoff Restaurant.  This one made the tour because the Berghoff Restaurant was opened in 1898, making it the oldest continuously operating restaurant in Chicago.  It was really pretty- the place had inlaid wood features, a beautiful floor and even furniture that fit the atmosphere.  Cas and I have been trying to lay off the carbs and sugar, but since they have a brewery that makes beer and cider, we had to give it a go.  And they had a potato pancake appetizer like I haven’t seen.  The pancakes themselves were about two inches in diameter and garnished with brie cheese, apples, fig marmalade and bacon.  I mean, wow- right? 

From there, we went to The Brehon Pub.  This one was called The Mirage when it opened in 1977, and it was the ground zero for a large piece of investigative journalism about kickbacks and payoffs in the city.  Apparently, if you wanted inspectors, city officials or other power-wielding folks to look the other way, you could make that happen with money, and to end that corrupt practice, journalists had to hang out at a bar and ask questions.  Two of journalists’ favorite things, from what I can tell.  The temperature was in the mid seventies, though, so at the Brehon Pub, we sat outside.  Fresh air may have been more elusive than you’d think, though.  For our one-drink visit, we somehow sat downwind of three separate people’s cigarette breaks.  So it goes.  

Next on the agenda was the Green Door Tavern.  That’s where we get to Grandma Alice and the Andrews Sisters.  This one was built in  1872, a year after the Great Chicago Fire.  It apparently opened as a tavern in 1921, which is interesting, as I am pretty sure prohibition stretched from 1920 to 1933.  They may have served something else in the main part of the tavern at the time, but I suspect the speakeasy downstairs could have been a proper source of income for the tavern’s owners.  We had bacon wrapped figs (we kind of had a self-styled tapas dinner last night) and asked about the speakeasy, then we went down the path behind the bar and downstairs to see what the fuss was all about.  There was a “hidden” door.  Kind of hard to hide it, really, when there’s a doorknob and it’s very loud inside.  When you arrive, you are handed seven drink recipes on tarot cards, so we picked two cards, and with them, our beverage future.  The place was very cool- dark, but with its own personality, and we were really enjoying it, but they had more in store.  As we were sipping our very fancy cocktails, a song cranked up and a woman in very skimpy attire came out with two feathered fans.  She did a provocative dance with the fans, eventually revealing a little bit more as the song progressed.  Gotta say- I wasn’t expecting that.  And so, I’ve had the Strip Polka song in my head since then.  Thanks, grandma.  

The last stop on the pub tour was optional at this point.  We just saw a very enthusiastic woman do a fan-dance, for Pete’s sake.  We were nearly at flip-a-coin time for this one, but we decided to round it out and go to the Monk’s Pub.  I honestly can’t remember the reason that particular bar was significant, but it was a very cool bar.  And with that, we wrapped it all up and headed back to the hotel.  It’s time to get moving on our next adventure.  Cas has a Farmers Market in mind, and I saw a little something about a Ferris Wheel when I went digging for ideas.  We should do something cool- after all, a week from today is our seventh wedding anniversary- may as well start the celebrating now.  

As for a photo album, Cas is trying something different.  Google is wonderful, and they make a good album, but if you want to post as many things as we have, they eventually tell you you’ve used up all of your free space.  While we could easily cheat the system and use a new account when the old one gets full, he thought he’d try a new method.  I’ll post a link when he shares one.  Photo album: coming soon! 

So, that’s it for Wednesday.  See you on the other side of Thursday, and raise a glass to Queenie, the Andrews Sisters and the good people of the Chicago restaurant and bar industry.