We were in Connellsville for nearly two weeks this holiday, and Andrew and I packed a lot into our stay. Christmas festivities took up the first part of the trip, but after that, we had great plans. Gabe’s again, of course. Wings at Lynn’s. Those are standard fare for any Connellsville visit. There was New Year’s Eve, as well, which we spent with friends in Pittsburgh who were brave enough to host a party that involved seventeen kids under ten years old.
This year, we added something new to our Connellsville time: touring residential and commercial properties with a realtor, with an eye toward possible investment properties. Well, one eye was turned toward that; the other eye was simply curious to see what was behind the doors of some of the stately old homes whose faded grandeur seems mismatched with their $30K prices. We saw some interesting things. At one apartment, the door fell off—just pushed over and fell down flat—when the realtor went to unlock it. At a house, though the realtor made a big deal about calling to get the code for the lock on the back door, the front door was hanging wide open and askew. Holes in the floor were common. More interestingly, one house had a tunnel in the basement leading halfway across the street outside—its original endpoint a mystery to all. We went into more than one turret, with beautiful light and views. But much as Andrew and I love decrepit old houses, we weren’t charmed by these places. We were, however, intrigued by the possibilities of a commercial property—no hidden tunnels, but potential for a nice little side business of landlording. We shall see.
We also spent a morning wandering around Rural King, checking out piles of bags of Deer Corn and camouflage office chairs.
On our final day, we along with Mom and Dad went into Pittsburgh to Phipps Conservatory, to see the Winter Garden and its lovely lights. It was so much fun—the girls were on their best behavior, and we all loved walking around. It was a perfect end to our trip.
It was disheartening to come home, with our house still a construction zone, nary a morsel of nourishing food in sight. A stray half-bag of egg noodles had been emptied by some creature apparently living in our basement.