my summer vacation

We arrived in Boston from our red-eye flight Friday morning at 10am. M and I went to the bathrooms after we de-boarded the plane to change into our shirts so that we could be ready for the full on shirt to shirt smack down. M's Mum was at baggage claim waiting for us. She was not wearing the shirt. M and I exchange glances, but say nothing. When we get to the car, we throw our bags into the back and come round the front to hug and kiss m's dad (WFK). Who is also not wearing the shirt. More glances between me and m. In a whispered conversation later that day, we decide that perhaps WFK is saving the shirt for a moment when a large group of people will be present. He loves nothing more than a large audience to laugh while he pokes good-natured fun at his children.

Friday was mostly real estate day. We grabbed some coffee on the way to a doctor’s appointment.

In the waiting room of the doctor’s office, I knit on the socks of sucktion and we catch up with mum while dad gets checked out by various doctors (dad sees doctors regularly since he’s got a heart condition and is on several medications).

After the doctor’s offce we start our real estate day. We drove through Arlington, Watertown, Newton, Somerville and Brighton. We stop at a few houses from the book and others from dad’s own real estate searches. We have lunch at the Halfway Cafe which is really a bar that serves food and I order a steak and cheese sub. Why not? I’m on vacation. More driving around after (which is good for me since I get to work on the socks of suction some more) and eventually we head to the house in Winchester to drop off the first of the bags that represent the me and m's migration. M thought it would be a good idea to take advantage of our checked luggage option and haul some of our less essential housewares to the east coast. This would involve less shipping when we start the serious packing in a few months. My husband is nothing if not brilliant.

* * *

A few days later…

Well folks, it is nearly a month after I went on this trip and though I enjoyed myself, there was nothing that took place that warrants blogging a freaking month after the fact. So I present to you instead, a photo-essay of my trip to New England (I wish I had taken more photos):

Like father like son…most of my vacation time seemed to be spent hanging out with these two bozos lovely men while they surfed/played solitaire.

Can you see why I feel no guilt for doing this:

during my vacation with my in-laws?

We spent only about two days at the beach

Jake and Sam playing in the sand

Left to right: Mum testing out the cold, cold water, Auntie Ann and sister-in-law K enjoying the sunshine, Mum deciding that she's had enough of the cold water.

Yes. It was very, very bright.

[The following has been edited to protect the innocent. 1)I don’t need y’all ogling my husband’s sexy physique. That’s my job. 2) Cousin Todd is a freaking PRIEST. So quit with the drooling and ogling janet and stacey!]

M looking out at the cold, cold water. Cousin Rachel (mother of Jake and Sam) sitting and relaxing.

M and cousin Todd cavorting in the cold, cold water. I think Todd was trying to convince M that he should go in. I think Todd didn’t realize how strong the current was as it tugged on his shorts to hang lower and lower and lower…

Mum and dad's cottage in New Hampshire.

Sister-in-law C having a beer and sharing stories with Great Uncle Jim (a.k.a. The Big Ragu).

Mum cooking up a 4th of July dinner. And a photo of the rice and an incredibly green drink.

The Wentworth-by-the-Sea is the hotel/country club where the wedding took place. Some of the guests stayed there and others mooched off of their room cards. Here we are lounging on the front deck, drinking cocktails and enjoying the summer afternoon. Left to right: Dad watching his wife and the bellhop unload the car, Dad and Uncle Ralph enjoying a cigar, m and Dad enjoying Uncle Ralph’s stories.

Waiting for the wedding ceremony to begin.

Dad and Mum in a rare moment of seriousness.

The lovely bride Carolyn with her handsome husband and all-around good guy Jeff.

Cousin Carolyn dancing with her father Uncle Tom.

Great-Cousin Larry Reynolds with Dad. He’s the Larry Reynolds of Irish fiddling fame. A retired carpenter, Larry spends 4-5 nights a week playing at pubs in Boston. He’s a local legend and nicer man you couldn’t meet. He shook my hand firmly at the end of the evening and told me that it was a pleasure meeting me and that I was “a stump of a woman.” I took it as a compliment, though I still do not know exactly what it means.

Left to right: Great Cousin Mary Reynolds, Phyllis Reynolds (wife of Larry), Great Cousin Larry Reynolds (a little cut off).

Left to right: Great Cousin Larry Reynolds, Carolyn, Dad.

M chatting with Cousin Sean.

Frye Doe (or Fried Dough). I had to do it. The bright neon signs along the beach were calling to me. It was 11:30 at night, after the wedding, after a few beers, just before bed and it needed to be done. I couldn’t finish the whole thing (it was huge! and greasy! and so disgusting but good!) but I’m glad I had it.

Random shot of my nightstand at the cottage. I wanted to show the tissue box and indicate how much I used. That was a fresh box that I cracked open when we arrived. And I was the only one using this tissue box. Damn. I hate my sinuses.

To sum up: New England is beautiful. My in-laws are nice (though tiring after spending day and night with them for 11 days straight). All in all, still a place I want to and am looking forward to moving to.