Look who came to visit!
Apparently Will and I tend to just look at ourselves in the camera instead of the camera lens. Oops.
My dad flew into Boston to visit us this past weekend. It was a great time for a visitor-- I had 3 scheduled days off in a row (a rarity), the weather had warmed up from the Nor'easter so walking around was pleasant, and Will's reading break is this week, so his school work could take a little vacation for a few days.
The plan was for Will to pick up my dad from the airport on Friday while I was at work, and I would just join everyone after I got home. At 5:00 A.M., the hospital called & said they were overstaffed and would I like to stay home. Usually I would say no to this incredibly tempting offer (so I don't use up my vacation time), but this just seemed like the perfect time to take it. Best 5 A.M. call ever! So now, I had four glorious days off. Such a gift!
We picked up dad from the airport and headed out to lunch near our home. And that brings me to a very strange story I would like to share with you.
Dad and I at a beach near my home.
My knee did start hurting & swelling a while later, so we made a quick-ish trip to the ER for xrays, which confirmed no broken bones, and then we went on our merry way.
Dad has friends in Boston, so we took the T into the city and had dinner with them at Nico's in the North End. Excellent food! My only complaint is that there was a massive flat screen TV in the dining room that was playing an old mob movie. I understand the idea, but eating a nice meal and sipping a smooth wine while seeing a sex scene and mass murder in the background didn't really "set the tone" for my meal.
When asked if we wanted to get any dessert, I said, "I was run over by a car today. I want a cannoli." So we walked down to Modern Pastry for a sweet end to our trip into the city.
Dad and his friends in front of the store.
With full bellies, we waddled back to the T and headed home.
On Saturday, we headed up to Marblehead for brunch. When Will's family came up last year to drop him off at school, we ate brunch at The Landing and it was phenomenal! It is still our favorite bowl of clam chowder (and we order that soup everywhere so that's a big compliment... we've tasted many bowls!) Well, the brunch is only served on Sundays. Whomp whomp. So we ate our lunch and headed over to Salem for some tourist time.
Will and me at The Landing.
Look behind Will and you'll see a massive crane that
takes ships in and out of that warehouse!
Here I am reading about using the angles of the shadows created by the Sun to decipher the time of day. I look confused because Will is standing directly where the Sun should have been creating my shadows...
Salem is most known for the Salem Witch Trials back in the 1600s. Interestingly, the first Witch Trial took place in Danvers, not in Salem. A servant woman was accused of being a witch by two young sisters, and she was told if she confessed, she would be released from her job with the family. Instead, they executed her. She confirmed the names of a few other "witches" (other women these two sisters were accusing), and they were also executed. Those executions all took place in Salem, but it all started in Danvers. There is a beautiful memorial for the 20 or so executed.
Salem uses this little bit of history to really attract tourists. There are legitimate historical sites (like the memorial and museums), but there is a hefty amount of cheesey, shameless tourist attractions based on witches. Think... Harry Potter stores, wax museums with witches and wizards, and large plywood witches with holes cut out for faces... like so...
The Bearded Witch
The Distressed/Windblown Witch
The Jolly/Can't-Contain-My-Height Witch
Boo!
We spent the rest of the time walking around Salem's pedestrian mall, all around the harbor, and through the stores and alleys of the city.
We ended Saturday with going to see 007: Skyfall at our local theater. Classic entertainment.
Part II will tell of Sunday and Monday's adventures...
I just can't stop laughing. This is precious. Love you guys.
ReplyDeleteLove, Mom