"Our most ancient metaphor says life is a journey. Memoir is travel writing, then, notes taken along the way, telling how things looked and what thoughts occurred. . . .This is the traveler who goes on foot, living the journey, taking on mountains, enduring deserts, marveling at the lush green places...as a pilgrim, seeking, wondering." -Patricia Hampl
November 20, 2005
Seeing that three of our Pittsburgh gals had gone and gotten themselves propertied (i.e., bought themselves each a 'haus'), Heath and I headed on West to celebrate Katie, Tina, and Allison, and their brand new mortgages. We were thrilled to arrive at Katie's housewarming party in time on that Friday night: for when we walked in, we not only saw Katie's unrivaled decor put to good use, but were welcomed with shrieks of surprise by friends who hadn't seen me in ages (and who'd never met Heath). Congratulatory hugs and kisses abounded--for homes, for our engagement, for an upcoming retirement, for reunions.
When the evening came to its close, Tina graciously allowed us to sleep in her new abode: a wonderful home on the southern side of the city, and we had just enough time to give Heath a tour of the Strip District before heading back East.
The Strip District is home to every imagined, food-related bargain one could hope for: bulk spices, exotic (but cheap) cheeses, home-made pastries, Asian specialties, Italian delicacies, Polish sausages, you-name-it-what-have-yous.
Once we'd exhausted ourselves on delicious smells, crowds of 'Stiller' fans, and funky curio shops, it was time to head home--with plenty of squeezes to tide us over 'til our next trip to 'da Burgh.