Spring is springing

I had a GREAT weekend.

Friday night I went out with Aimee and her boyfriend to dinner and then to play darts. I haven't thrown darts in a long time, and I still kicked her ass. I always do.

Aimee asked if she could steal Zoe on Sunday to go to the Carnegie Science Center with her son, Lewis. I asked, "Can I come??"

On Saturday, another friend, Haya, called to ask if SHE could steal Zoe to do something with her daughter, Elsie, on Sunday. "CAN I COME??"

It seems once I became a mother, I became irrelevant. Even when my friends call to invite me somewhere, they are sure to ask, "Is Zoe coming?" As if that is a prerequisite.

We all met at the science center on Sunday, and the time really did fly by. Afterward we all headed to Aimee's mom's house for pizza, and it was a beautiful day out. The kids played in the yard, and before long they were all stripping off clothes. Spring is here!!

Some photos from the science center:













Saturday was a little somber... I joined my dad and my brother at my grandfather's house. Sometime last year, my grandpap had a hip replacement, and my uncle who lives in Florida moved my grandpap there. They are trying to sell his house here, so my dad has been going over there to clean up here and there. I have not been there in I don't know how long... many many years. But I finally made the trek over. It was bittersweet, remembering how I passed a lot of time there as a kid, with my mother, and the smell was the same!

But it was rather horrific too... my grandfather apparently hadn't been taking good care of himself or his home, and after his hip operation he literally got up and left his house as it was. There were greasy pots on the stove, dishes in the dishwasher, an unmade bed, bills piling up. I was shocked, and my dad, who has been going over there to clean for several months, assured me that it had been much worse.

I can't begin to explain how guilty I feel for not knowing how bad the conditions were at his house. And I can't begin to explain how much my stomach was turning as I cleaned the kitchen, with food coating the stovetop (and the walls and the floor and the fucking CEILING) and dirty dishes that had been in the sink for MONTHS.

But we left there feeling good, that we got a lot done as far as getting it a little closer to a sellable condition. We kept finding a lot of neat old things that kept us going. I found an absolutely gorgeous platter and candy dish, and my brother found some old horns and car stuff. There were rolls of coins from Kennywood that my dad said the park gave out when HE was a kid. Lots of old stuff like that. Old baseball gloves, keychains, pencils with REAL LEAD. Eight-track tapes and a steering wheel with a logo even my dad couldn't identify. My grandfather's pilot log book. Really old fly rod reels. Do-it-yourself books from the 1950s.

We won't benefit from any of this monetarily, but there are rich rewards from sifting through this history. And it felt really good to team up and spend time with my dad and my brother.

I gotta write to my grandfather and see how he's doing. My guess is... he feels free.