Summer: Thurs., 8/16
This morning I met potential buyers at the Pittsburgh Street house. Always hoping someone falls in love with it like we have. After that, it was Nemacolin day--always fun to drive up into the mountains. Andrew didn't come with us last year, so it was his first time playing mini-golf on the spectacular course. After mini-golf, we went to the wildlife area, but the kids were more interested in playing in the playhouse, and Andrew and I were more interested in lying on a hammock. All good. For lunch, we went to Curt's, further up the mountain, for meals and pie.
Later in the afternoon, the girls and I rode bikes to the Sycamore Street house. Lucia put Roary and Carmel Judy in her bike basket, since both of them used to live in the house, and Roary in particular was extremely distraught over the state of the house and its imminent demolition. Lucia seems to understand the heartache of seeing a former home this way--she's truly my child. I hate seeing the house like that, and it was particularly upsetting when Lucia made Roary and Carmel Judy walk up the steps of the house, mournfully. It is just awful. I still wish there were a way to save it but I know, realistically, it is little more now than an unstable, unsaveable, uninhabitable pile of bricks.
Tonight, Andrew and I are going to sleep in the Pittsburgh Street house. I am prepared to be fully scared. I wonder, if I can't sleep, if I'll be brave enough to wander the dark, empty rooms.
Later in the afternoon, the girls and I rode bikes to the Sycamore Street house. Lucia put Roary and Carmel Judy in her bike basket, since both of them used to live in the house, and Roary in particular was extremely distraught over the state of the house and its imminent demolition. Lucia seems to understand the heartache of seeing a former home this way--she's truly my child. I hate seeing the house like that, and it was particularly upsetting when Lucia made Roary and Carmel Judy walk up the steps of the house, mournfully. It is just awful. I still wish there were a way to save it but I know, realistically, it is little more now than an unstable, unsaveable, uninhabitable pile of bricks.
Tonight, Andrew and I are going to sleep in the Pittsburgh Street house. I am prepared to be fully scared. I wonder, if I can't sleep, if I'll be brave enough to wander the dark, empty rooms.
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