Saturday, March 4, 2017

Goin' "Home"

Why do even grown adults of all ages who've lived years away from the place they grew up call a trip there "going home"?

I honestly don't know.

But that's what I did today.

And I meandered with a stop just down the mountain in Sherwood to poke around Epiphany Mission Episcopal Church, crumbling in some ways, radiant in others.

 After wandering and wondering, I suddenly realized I'd be late if I didn't skedaddle. So I did.

Arrived noon.

Ate a sandwich.

Went with nephew to the Pig to buy can-shaped pint glasses. (They are, unfortunately, still in Birmingham.)

Picked up his mother-in-law.

Drove to Cahaba Brewing where we left the car.

Uber-ed to the Civic Center.

Got there early, so I took pictures while the others chatted and organized.

Met niece inside.

Grabbed our seats,

Saw Birmingham Ballet performance of Cinderella with two great-nieces and many others (including seven! professional men).

Nephew's father-in-law drove us to Cahaba Brewing, where I had a flight of four dark beers. (The best part was the wooden state of Alabama on which they were served the beer.

Went to The Garage for a better beer -- Samuel Smith Chocolate Stout. (I impressed the nephew when I said I knew all about The Garage. Then I reminded him that it's old.) [Also: I must find the Samuel Smith here.]

Ate dinner at Hot and Hot Fish Club, a delicious treat. My nephew knows how to treat his aunt well.

Went home.

Chatted and recovered. Watched an hour documentary about wild places and learned that lead bullets have practically killed off all the condors. Seventy-two living condors at the time of the film. (A sobering fact given the new Secretary of the Interior's re-introduction of lead bullets in national parks.)

Saw the Greats for about 15 minutes before we all went to bed.

One full. One exhausting. Day.

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