Pittsburgh is a Primanti Brothers' Sandwich

Pittsburgh, much like the city's famous sandwich, is a lot easier to stomach than it looks!

I'd like to think I became an official Yinzer this weekend. I ate my first (meatless) Primanti Bros. sandwich, everything but the picnic table shoved between two slices of white bread, with just my bare hands to contend with. I usually like my french fries on the side, with ketchup, thank you very much. I like my cole slaw on a plate, with a fork, please. Although I balked at the mess (they call this a sandwich?) of fries and slaw protruding from thick grilled slices of Italian bread, melted American cheese, and a juicy red tomato--it was in the same manor of hesitating before the first bite of a Swensen's ice-cream sundae. This can't be good for me. I really shouldn't, it's mmmmm, ummmmm, ymmmmm, what was I saying?

In other words, it was good. Damn good. I like the sandwich like I like the city. Unsophisticated, yes, but interesting. Unusual yet familiar.

After hearing of my hesitation to move to Pittsburgh, my uncle Elias, who is from Lebanon, told me: "It's the United States of America! Anywhere you go here will be good." He was right. I'm finding the experience of living here more similar to California than different. Still, there are enough regional differences to make life interesting.

Now if I could just bring my family and friends here, too....

Welcome home, Dad! Can't wait for you and Mom to try a Primanti Bros. sandwich. You can skip the Iron City beer, though. They may make a decent sandwich, but their beer is watery and flat!

The Merry Go Round of Life

Yesterday at Schenley Plaza near Carnegie Mellon University, Andy rode on the carousel with new buddies, Myles and Samuel. We met up with the toddlers through the Moms Club of Pittsburgh East.

Our furniture arrived today! Now we have some serious unpacking to do. Andy was overjoyed to be reunited with his cars and trains. I am relieved to have more clothes to wear, and to sleep in my own bed. It's the little things in life...

The physical and occupational therapists are giving my Dad quite a workout at Dominican. If all goes well, he could be home as early as Friday.

Fun!

It's Andy's turn to scrub mortar with a toothbush. He's much more enthusiastic about the project than I am. He's feeling very pleased with himself for making his way up the ladder. I'm feeling frustrated, because the more we scrub, the more the mortar crumbles...I want to paint this brick wall an off-white color.

We've also started painting the living room in "dusty yellow", as inspired by Jessica and Hilary's Bungalow in Eureka.

First Haircut

Can you see the tears? It was a tramautic experience for Andy. I was afraid it would be; the child screams at having his hair combed.

We're back in Pittsburgh, and are staying at the new (old) house in Squirrel Hill. Mike and his family did an amazing job of cleaning the place, so I'm setting aside fears of lead paint dust for the moment.

My Dad has been transferred to the acute rehabilitation facility at Dominican Hospital in Santa Cruz. It's much quieter there, he says, and he has his own room. He has some hard work ahead of him there.

Update

My Dad is keeping his spirits up. The visits, calls, cards and offers of help from family and friends has helped all of us.

He may receive an operation on his acetebulum (the socket in the pelvis that connects to the femur) on Friday from a specialist in San Francisco. We are hopeful that will ease pain and speed his recovery.