Family fun continued yesterday. I loaded up the car with leftovers: pans of stuffed shells and sausage, a bowl of chicken Marsala, sandwiches, cake, cookies, soda, iced tea, and beer and took them to Betty's for lunch. After we ate, Carolyn's husband, Dana, took the two kids to the beach, and the rest of us walked the few blocks to Rosborough Avenue.
We found Dee G., in the back yard and she greeted me like an old friend. She showed us around the first floor apartment where she stays when she comes down; it's been extensively renovated, but was recognizable. The upstairs tenant, Scarlett, came in and took us up to the main part of the house.
We went up the familiar front stairs and walked all through, exclaiming over the changes--new railings on the porch, wall-to-wall carpeting, an updated kitchen, and so on--but got more excited about the things that were the same: the distinctive fireplace, the chandeliers in the double living room, some of the bathroom fixtures. Scarlett led us upstairs and that was even more familiar. Aside from fresh paint and a few other improvements, it looked very much as it had when the Byrne family lived there.
On the third floor, there are what used to be "servants' quarters," two rooms and a bath, that my brother, Jim, took over at one time. It's now used for storage, but Frank mentioned that there's a loose board in the hall, under which he used to hide treasures. He and son Patrick located it, but there was nothing in his hiding place but a rusty nail.
We took lots of pictures, then left with many thanks, kisses and hugs, and good wishes all around. I told Dee and Scarlett I'd duplicate some old pictures with Rosborough Avenue in them, and share them--will either send them or bring them down.
The house is for sale and Patrick expressed some interest in it. I had sent Mike the particulars, too, but he probably won't pursue it. Who knows, though, someday 15 South may be back in our family's hands!
After dinner, we opened the rest of the cards and gifts from the party. Loved Marge's: a bottle of Bailey's Irish Cream. She knows I make a "Molloy version," and that I love it--good chum Marge!