Saturday afternoon, I got a call from my mom’s cousin Amy. She was at Rittenhouse Square with Derek and Sabrina and was wondering if I wanted to join them. I was sitting at the dining room table when the phone rang, eating a turkey sandwich and reading the weekend newspaper. I quickly finished my sandwich, packed up some cubed watermelon as a treat to share and headed to the park with my camera in hand.

I found them on the 18th Street side of the Square, watching Derek trying to throw a ball for a newly befriended dog. After he said good-bye to the dog, the four of us wandered around the Square until we worked ourselves over to the courtyard by the goat, which has always been the spot where all the parents and young children gather to play.

It’s a place where my own grandmother played, when she was 6 or 7 years old. For a brief period of time, somewhere around 1921 or 1922, my grandmother lived with her siblings, their mother and step-father Fred, in a tiny rowhouse across the street from Rittenhouse Square. It was fun to get a chance to see Derek sitting on the same statue that so many members of my family have enjoyed as children.

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Several weeks ago, I answered the Cookthink Questionnaire. It went live last week, and so if you happen to be one of those people who has an unquenchable thirst for greater knowledge about me (I believe my parents are the only ones who actually fall into this category), you can read it here.