So, we drove up to the river today. Eight long freaking hours in the cramped HHR. Wouldn't have been that back if the car wasn't so damn small. However, it was still a treat as always. My parents tried to tell us we were traveling up the bridge again after the small bend and Katie fell for it. "It's always better after dark," my mother said.
After the bridge it takes several turns and hills and leaps and bounds to get to my grandparents' house. I always look forward to the same things. The deer running across the road, the sun falling behind the rolling land across the river. However, I was disappointed to find one of my favorite attractions was missing.
A house--old, decrepit, a "no tresspassing" sign posted on the door and molding rotten wood falling off the walls. It wasn't even a comfort.
IT LOOKED JUST LIKE THE SHRIEKING SHACK.
And they tore it down.
LAME.
However, everything else sat exactly as I had left it last. Same flowers, same plants, weird smiley flag (that was new) and the smell of homemade spaghetti sauce drifting through the air.
The only thing that was really different was my grandparents' incredibly quirky cat. He "lives" at their house, but his mother comes to pick him up every so often and they disappear for, sometimes, days at a time. I saw him at the door and tried to let him in, but he only ran away, disappearing behind a bush that was just barely out of my reach. Plus, his angry mother sat in front of him and something's telling me I shouldn't cross her.
Having weird animals in the house only makes me feel more comfortable. But that's a story for a different day.
Haha. Home sweet home.
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