Concord and home
Jul. 16th, 2009 03:25 pmI seem to have climbed out of internet hell only to find myself in physical hades, so this will be a bit truncated.
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Concord turned out to be utterly lovely, if utterly filled with too many sugary things.
More unexpected moments: I played the piano at the the Old Manse, where Hawthorne wrote his tales while overlooking the old Concord battlefields (which still have some people wandering around in shiny bright red coats to fulfill the ongoing need for tourists to have their picture taken next to people in shiny bright red coats), a final moment in transforming my trip into a surprisingly musical week.
Alas, Concord, and New England in general, was short on raspberries to pick from raspberry bushes (too much rain, everybody said gloomily, while staring into the bright sunlight, although given the standing water everywhere I was inclined to believe them.) But the little tourist bus, if a bit overloud and overly cheerful and overly inclined to squawk about Concord grapes, got me places, and I was able to enter the edges, at least, of New England woods, before spending more time in sleep.
I also got to catch up on matters with![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fbhjr and malterre, even if my time with both was limited.
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I remembered that Logan is a hellish airport, but I had forgotten just how hellish. Also, crappy disabled services. Both directions.
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I returned home to be leapt upon by one cat in decided ecstasy and to receive distrustful looks from the other cat, who later decided that 4 am would be the most appropriate moment to express her hurt feelings. I suppose we can all understand that, although to be truthful, it may take a bit of time for me to reach that understanding. Meanwhile, the Little One has apparently decided that if he keeps his paws wrapped around some portion of my anatomy I will never ever leave him again.
********
Concord turned out to be utterly lovely, if utterly filled with too many sugary things.
More unexpected moments: I played the piano at the the Old Manse, where Hawthorne wrote his tales while overlooking the old Concord battlefields (which still have some people wandering around in shiny bright red coats to fulfill the ongoing need for tourists to have their picture taken next to people in shiny bright red coats), a final moment in transforming my trip into a surprisingly musical week.
Alas, Concord, and New England in general, was short on raspberries to pick from raspberry bushes (too much rain, everybody said gloomily, while staring into the bright sunlight, although given the standing water everywhere I was inclined to believe them.) But the little tourist bus, if a bit overloud and overly cheerful and overly inclined to squawk about Concord grapes, got me places, and I was able to enter the edges, at least, of New England woods, before spending more time in sleep.
I also got to catch up on matters with
fbhjr and malterre, even if my time with both was limited.*********
I remembered that Logan is a hellish airport, but I had forgotten just how hellish. Also, crappy disabled services. Both directions.
********
I returned home to be leapt upon by one cat in decided ecstasy and to receive distrustful looks from the other cat, who later decided that 4 am would be the most appropriate moment to express her hurt feelings. I suppose we can all understand that, although to be truthful, it may take a bit of time for me to reach that understanding. Meanwhile, the Little One has apparently decided that if he keeps his paws wrapped around some portion of my anatomy I will never ever leave him again.
