Two Day Tuesday

Two days of enjoyment. Two days of not having to make my own lunch. What more could a single man ask for? I was treated to lunch for two days by two beautiful young ladies. A real treat no matter which way I looked at it.

Monday I was invited to make the short journey to the Trump house on Route 982 near Latrobe. It’s an impressive place. They offer various presidential items: T shirts, lanyards, pens, flags, yard signs, hats, and bumper stickers. One room of this two story house harbors all of these mementos as well as applications to register voters in the upcoming 2020 election. People come and go casually talking with one another. It was a very cordial and peaceful oasis in this world so recently divided by rioting and violence.

I was driven to the Trump house by a dear friend and traveling companion with her niece. My friend wanted a hat for her aunt who lives in the state of California. I’m sure that it will cause some controversy out there. Of course we had to get photos beside the 14 feet tall cutout of President Trump.

My friend’s niece paid for our lunch. We’ve often gone places with her and I think it was thank you for those times. I did leave the tip. We had a great time at the Trump house.

My daughter Anna was upset that we didn’t invite her. I said we’d go over on Tuesday. For two days in a row, I was able to tour the Trump house. The two story house is painted red, white, and blue. Red and white stripes wrap the house with a field of blue sporting white stars. It’s definitely an eye catcher. People aren’t able to ignore this unbelievably patriotic tribute to our Commander-in-Chief, Donald Trump as they drive along the highway. The only thing that would have been cooler is if the house was visible to Route 30 where more people could see it.

We met and spoke to a woman with her autistic child. She was upset about the proposed vaccine for Covid19.  Her daughter was normal until she received some type of vaccine at the age of twelve. The autism developed after that. The daughter looked to be in her mid to late 20’s. My daughter treated me to lunch after the visit.

I could get used to this, but alas I can’t Wednesday. It’s the day I volunteer at the Chestnut Ridge Historical Society; sorting, filing, and storing information in an attempt to keep things readily available for anyone seeking history of families or local events.

I’ll also be researching articles for the Society’s newsletter in an attempt to keep the stories interesting and local.