It is Sunday morning and here I sit again in my little place here at the PBC&R Cafe. They didn’t exactly have to carry me out here, but I did pretty much make a bee-line to the spot, followed by mighty plop. We had our trip; Summer had her birthday; Grandpa made a special effort to arrange to spend half of the day at Kings Island with her; we parked really close; the park was not crowded; we stayed until closing; we got caught in a huge traffic construction jam and it took two hours for the 45 minute trip home to the Ohio Redoubt Apartment. Fortunately, the AF base and the Wright State University made it profitable for pizza places to be open and delivering after midnight; we retrieved Sydney from Mother’s; we had a cake with a frog picture on it.

Oh . . . and there is the tale of  “well, grandpa rode Diamondback and so grandma did and that led to the gma eventually hurling FIVE times on the white water canyon”  . . .

Later. I will get into details. With pictures.