So, I headed to a bathroom and kitchen supply house near Camp Hill because they have a good selection. So good, in fact, that making a choice will be very difficult. Naturally, it's all high-end stuff, and being a good Scotsman (some of the time) I like to find something that does not make my wallet scream when I open it.
I guess I will head to Lowe's and see if they have something similar but made for the masses.
While I was over in Camp Hill, I realized I was only a block away from Rolling Green Cemetery, where all of the Robinsons are interred. Well, not all of us. Some of us are still living.
My Uncle Hale bought all of the lots on behalf of the family way back in 1929 when it opened. I remember seeing the original deed, which clearly stated that black people were not to be admitted. Thank heaven we have made some progress in that area.
They were primo spots then, right near the large fountain that sprayed water up in the air while it played pleasant music. Now it is silent and filled with soil and shrubs. No water. No music. Not so primo.
Do you remember the old saying that, if you have a sudden shiver, someone has stepped on your grave? It did not work today. I stepped all over mine, casting a wide shadow, and Susanne's, too, and nary a shiver. If we end up there, Susanne and I will have to be planted head to head. Hmmm, we have never seen eye to eye in life; how will we manage for eternity?
It's a boat launching site, right where the Conodoguinet Creek empties into the river. The creek was flowing strongly today. Seagulls and egrets were floating around, and the city looked nice in the late afternoon sun.
Continuing up 11/15, I passed the famous Enola train yards, where there was considerable activity with trains moving here and there, headed for I-81 and home.
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