The suites at Hope Lodge are spacious if sparsely decorated . . nothing that will catch allergens or dust . . . with high ceilings and huge windows in both the bedroom and the living room. One of my most favorite features, are the ceiling fans in both rooms. The 9TS is not so enamored. At home we replay the battle of the fans on a daily basis. I love them. He hates them. We negotiate . . . live runs smoothly.
These fans are on remote control. There is a little quirk. It took us a couple of nights to discover you have to close the door between the two rooms and aim the remote at the far bedroom wall and bounce the signal to turn on just the bedroom fan and not the living room. The 9TS figured that one out. But shortly after he fixed the situation, I was happily blogging in the breeze in the bedroom while he was watching TV fan-less in the other room, and my fan stopped. I raised an eyebrow in the 9TS's direction. He had innocent plastered all over his face. And since I had the remote, I knew he was not to blame. He turned my fan back on. This routine continued for several days and we chalked it up to a Hope Lodge oddity.
Mystery solved. At dinner Monday night, while I was still home, the discussion at the table was ceiling fans and how two of the guests were battling each other for control. It seems that not only can the signal be bounced off the walls in your own suite, it can control your neighbors fan. Jerry, one of the 9TS's compatriots, battles his neighbor on a nightly basis. All out war. On. Off. On. Jerry is not a happy camper. I, on the other hand, am content. It seems my adversary has checked out.
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1 comment:
Just a bit more proof that boys really NEVER do grow up!
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