Miz F. lives in Wilmington, Delaware, not that far from the big park the zoo is in. I think the park is Brandywine Park? I believe the zoo is the Brandywine Zoo. P. gave reasonable directions, and I'd been there a couple of times before, so it wasn't a bad drive. From where P. and I live, Wilmington and Philadelphia are about equal drives, except that I won't drive in Philadelphia. We started out a bit after one p.m., so we probably got there by two.
P.'s brother C. was there. He'd taken Miz F. to a doctor's appointment, and they'd just gotten back. P. had brought all kinds of things for her mother, including bottled water, clothes, and a cell phone. The phone must have been a pay-as-you-go one, because P. said it had 120 minutes on it. P. had programmed in the numbers for all Miz F.'s children. After we sat and talked for a bit, P. took Miz F.'s laundry down to the laundry room to do. Miz F. and C. and I talked, and P. rejoined us after she got the laundry started.
After an hour or so, C. had to leave to pick up his wife from work. When P. went down to check on the laundry, Miz F. asked if I could vacuum the rugs in the main room and help her change the bed linens. Otherwise P. would do it, Miz F. said. Last time I took P. there, she cleaned the bathroom. I was happy to help out.
P. wanted to scan pictures from her mother's photo albums, so she picked out a few. P. and C. and Miz F. talked about family, friends and acquaintances. Miz F. used the phrase "dark-skinned" every so often to specify which acquaintance she was talking about. I would be very cautious about using that phrase, but Miz F. might well describe P. and C. that way. I'm not sure enough about the politics.
P. switched the laundry from one dryer to another when she realized that the first dryer wasn't all that functional. She took me down with her to wait for the last little while for clothes to dry. I asked P. about weaves. I've been curious about that from Mercedes' occasional mention of them. In the first season, she said, "My weave!" when she was in fear of getting a slushy, and she had "No weave" on her "Born This Way" T-shirt.
P. was happy to explain. She herself, she said, had a ponytail held on by a couple of combs and string. A weave was hair sewn in with someone's own hair with a hair needle and thread. They could be glued as well, P. said, but apparently that was an older way. Celebrities had "top-of-the-line" weaves, P. said, and named a few that she was sure had weaves, because it couldn't all be their hair.
We talked hair generally, including about how my brother is bald now and how I want to get mine dyed red again soon. I'll probably just get a haircut in the next couple of weeks and get it dyed in the next month or two.
P. and I headed out about half past five. We encountered less traffic than I thought we would along some stretches of the highway. We stopped at a Wawa (tri-state area convenience store) for P. to get a meatball hoagie for dinner. I called home to see if Mom wanted me to get hoagies for her and Dad while I was there, but she said Dad had picked up a pizza.
I felt like I'd been useful for the day, and saw friends, so it was a good day for me.