March 28 – 31 – Pittsburgh

Fruit bats at National Aviary

On a whim we decided to buy tickets to see the Penguins play Chicago.  It was our last chance to see the Pens at home.  So we packed up the car and headed north.

On Friday night we had dinner at Lidia’s. The food was great. Tragically, Franco was not working so we had to muddle through on the wine selection.  We missed him.

Saturday was a free day since the game was Sunday afternoon.  It was a rainy day and Matt cannot walk far.  We did a bit of shopping in the Strip District, mostly Italian food.  We found the espresso at La Prima and it was indeed prima.  Still raining we drove over to the National Aviary.  We saw the fruit bats being fed, the penguins being fed, and the rest of the birds just hanging out doing what birds do.  It was a good way to waste an afternoon.

I am a sucker for one man shows so we bought tickets to see “An Iliad.”  It was interesting but after two glasses of wine at dinner, and in that warm dark theater, I was having trouble keeping my eyes open.   (Note to self: never eat at the restaurant in the Renaissance again).

Finally, Sunday! After brunch with Matt’s friend Cindy and her husband, we drove around my old neighborhood in Oakland.  Both apartment buildings I lived in during college were still there.  The laundromat and the bar we went to while our clothes were washing and drying was still there too.  For gosh sakes, the old Luna bar was still there.   Quite unbelievable.  Thirty years made no difference.

There was a really awesome art installation at the Carnegie Art Museum and we stopped to get a closer look:





Now the day of hockey reckoning.  We had an early dinner at Mercato, the meatball restaurant.  What a dream.  A restaurant dedicated to meatballs.  That certainly is my dream.  I am a sucker for meatballs, too.

Then on to the game.  Chicago had whipped our butts at the Winter Classic and I sure wanted revenge.  We got it.  The Pens overpowered them Hawks.  It was great to see.

The next day was opening day for the Pirates.  As we emerged from the hotel to head to Starbucks, the streets were already  crowded.  It was all we could do to behave and not go to the game.  We could have gone.  Tickets were begin scalped.  But we had to get home.  If we had stayed we would not have gotten home until very late and we had to get up for work.  Boooo.

That really hurt.  We are never good.  We always go with  the spontaneous fun, not what we “should” do.  But this time, I said no.  It was sad.  We don’t like being good.




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