Sunday Sunday

Yesterday I went with my parents and little brother to clean out my grandparents' house because they are both in a nursing home now and can't keep all of their things. The circumstances were kind of crummy, but I do love going to their house for several reasons:

1. It is in the middle of nowhere, amidst a veritable sea of corn. My dad still plays this game with my brother and me where we pretend that the billiards bridge is a branding iron and he chases us screaming around the front yard so he can "brand" us. If he did this in the city, I'm pretty sure he would get arrested for disturbing the peace and/or abuse.

2. People who live in the country have burning barrels for their garbage. This is wonderful if you love fire as much as I do. I spent a good portion of the day watching styrofoam cornucopias and old photographs of my uncle's evil ex-wife shrivel and blacken in the flames as I breathed in large amounts of toxic fumes which later made me puke.

3. The house is filled with awesome stuff. My Grandpa kept a ridiculous hat collection which I wore while I took several facebook-worthy self portraits. My mom would not let me have his GIANT coyote tundra hat(because she thought I would wear it in public and make a fool out of myself, pfft), but I was allowed to take a tiny crockpot, almost twenty sets of circular and double pointed knitting needles, a large piece of faux fur, and an awesomely kooky handsewn quilt that my great-grandma had made. Now if only I can get my hands on that Vespa! Hi-O!