The Regulars are Coming!

I awakened early this morning with every intention of going to the gym. Instead, I’m still in my pajamas. I wasn’t defeated by a lack of motivation to exercise, it was the idea of causing my back to flare that did me in. I realize it’s inevitable, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. Unfortunately, it’s going to take a day or two of fortifying myself mentally. I’ve had a lot of nerve activity in my left leg for the past few weeks–something that’s not all that unusual–and once I hit the gym, it’ll compound and multiply. Ick. But instead of rolling over and going back to sleep, I decided to stay awake in an effort to shift my body back to a sleep pattern that’s conducive to going to the gym early in the morning. It’ll make for a slightly longer day today, but that’s fine.

I’m also back to careful food choices today. Yesterday’s calories weren’t too bad, actually. Saturday was the only day that was high because of the dinner I prepared for my mama (and the rest of the fam). Since Mother’s Day is only once a year, I don’t mind the splurge.

Speaking of early mornings, Mark, Saundra, the kids, and I had one on April 16. If you don’t know, the third Monday in April is Patriots Day in the state of Massachusetts. That’s right, it’s a holiday. Why? It denotes the Battles of Lexington and Concord, or the start of the Revolutionary War. Personally, I think the entire country should get that holiday.

We rolled out of bed at 4:30 a.m., made ourselves somewhat presentable, and set out for the reenactment in Lexington. Who knew this was such a popular activity? There were way too many people up at that time of the morning (you can see the crowds on the other side of the battlefield). It was pretty cool, though. I’m from California and live in Colorado, it’s not like either of these places is a hotbed for Revolutionary or Civil War reenactments. After all, while there were a couple of ridiculous skirmishes here and there in the name of either war, the real fighting took place on the east coast–primarily in New England for the Revolutionary War and in the south for the Civil War, at that.

Once the initial volley of shots was over, the regulars (a.k.a. British or Redcoats), marched off toward the Old North Bridge in Concord where the second battle occurred. We didn’t follow them to that reenactment. We went back to our car and the house with dreams of catching a few more winks before embarking on the rest of our day.

As I said yesterday, Eric’s birthday was the sixteenth. As such, after breakfast, the family took off for his birthday party and I set out to explore a bit on my own. Although, the first place I hit was a post office. I packaged up my loot and shipped it home so I wouldn’t have to lug it onto the plane when I flew home. I honestly didn’t come home with a ridiculous amount of stuff, it wasn’t like my trip to Europe in that way. I still had some stuff, though… plates from Williamsburg, Monticello, and Washington, D.C.; a t-shirt from the Cheers pub in Boston; magnets from all over (that’s the big offender); fudge from Gettysburg (oh my!); and pilsners from Cheers and Hard Rock Cafe in Boston.

I drove around enjoying quite a bit of the countryside as well. I drove by Walden Pond, where I didn’t stop to take photos because the line of cars extended outside and onto the main street. I stopped by Sleepy Hollow Cemetery again to get photographs of the front gate and signage (important detail). I wandered to and fro, getting a feel for the place. And I toured Orchard House.

Orchard House is where Louisa May Alcott’s family lived. Unfortunately, photographs of the interior are prohibited because many of the items are on loan from private owners. The foundation that oversees the home is in the process of painstakingly renovating it. To date, they appear to be doing a remarkable job.

It was interesting to see May’s paintings scattered throughout the house, her drawings on the walls of her bedroom and art study. She literally sketched on the walls. She painted on the walls of Louisa’s room to provide her sister with brightly colored art. May is the person on whom the character of Amy in Little Women is based. If you’re not aware, elements of this book are autobiographical. However, it’s not an exact representation of their lives. Beth is based on their sister, Lizzie, who did die in her youth and was highly musical. However, Louisa remained single for the duration of her life. She did raise May’s daughter, Louisa, upon her death.

The most interesting item in the Alcott home was a bust of Bronson Alcott, Louisa’s father. Located in the study, it’s situated in a small wall alcove. While going through the house on the tour, our guide told a story surrounding the bust. After spending a year at Massachusetts Institute of Technology (a.k.a. MIT), a young gentleman left his studies and returned home. Shortly thereafter, his father was riding on a train and struck up a conversation with May Alcott. Learning she was an artist, the father asked if she would allow his son to study with her and relay to him whether or not his son had talent. She consented and worked with his son. Daniel Chester French went on to not only sculpt the bust of Bronson Alcott, but sculpted the Minute Man statue in Minute Man Historical National Park (I told you to remember his name!), and later he sculpted a slightly more well known item… Abraham Lincoln at the Lincoln Memorial. It would appear he possessed some talent.

I also drove myself back to the southern edge of Boston to visit the Salem Maritime National Historic Site. While I got a stamp in my passport, it wasn’t anything major, photographically speaking. I would like to tour this area in greater depth next time I visit. Discovering it so late in the day, I wasn’t able to visit all of the stops associated with it.

After looking my fill, I headed back to Mark and Saundra’s house. We regrouped and headed to dinner. For lobster.

Woodman’s is in Essex, Massachusetts. Forbes magazine claimed it has the best seafood in America. Pretty darn cool, if you ask me. We all ordered different things, but Eric (the birthday boy) and I had lobster. Mark treated me to dinner, something I hadn’t expected but certainly appreciated.

The restaurant itself isn’t anything fancy. It kind of reminded me of Harbor House Cafe in Sunset Beach, California–without the movie posters on every wall and with a wait staff that isn’t pierced and tattooed to within an inch of its life.

So prior to this dinner, I’d eaten lobster exactly one time in my life. And that was a lobster tail that really didn’t require much effort to consume. (And no, I didn’t dress to “match” my food. It just worked out that way. I also don’t know what Trey was reacting to, other than to point out his brothers were sitting across the table from us.) So as a complete and total novice in the deconstruction of a lobster, Saundra (who was seated to my right) and Eric had to explain and show how to rip apart a lobster and get the meat out of his (I don’t really know if he was a he) legs, claws, and torso. I’m thinking New Englanders eat lobster after a stressful day just because they get to rip ‘em apart. It’s a very messy thing, but worth it! And yes, there’s clarified butter hiding in there, too. After much ripping, pushing, pulling, and then dunking in butter, I consumed New England lobster for the first time in my life. It was quite good! And that’s not beer in front of me. I topped off the lobster with apple juice. Oh yes, I did.

Eric was far more proficient than me when it came to tearing apart the lobster. I was schooled by a nine-year-old. What can I say? He’s lived in New England for a few years now and this was not his first rodeo. Me, on the other hand? Like I said, I grew up in SoCal and currently live in Colorado. Neither location is known for its lobster.

It was a long day thanks to the early wake-up call to see the Regulars storm Lexington. By the way, apparently I was taught wrongly by my schoolteachers… the cry wasn’t, “The British are coming! The British are coming!” It was, “The Regulars are coming! The Regulars are coming!” Who knew? Apparently, the locals in Lexington and Concord did. Anyway, thanks to the early morning, we all crashed pretty quickly. While I was with Mark and Saundra, the boys graciously bunked together and let me use Todd’s room.

It was a blast getting to know their boys and visiting with the family as a whole. I’ve literally known Mark all of my life, and met Saundra on one of my family’s many trips to Colorado for Thanksgiving week. I didn’t get to know her until they were stationed in SoCal back in the mid 90s. It was so fun to catch up and visit.

Today or Tomorrow?

I have to go into the office. Ick. My paycheck this week rocked from the overtime in the prior pay period, but I really prefer time off over the money. Unfortunately, it’s a battle I seem to be losing. The only question is, today or tomorrow? I really, really would like to enjoy a good Pajama Saturday, but I really, really don’t want to go in tomorrow. Alas, it’ll probably be today. Fine by me. Just let me wallow for a little while before accepting the inevitable.

How about a little more vacationing (I can live as an escapist for a little while, right?)?

We left off with a run to Minute Man National Historical Park. From there, Saundra took me on a driving tour through Concord and Lexington. I’m sure most of you are familiar with Ichabod Crane and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, right? While I didn’t visit Washington Irving’s stomping grounds in Sleepy Hollow, New York. Saundra did take me to Sleepy Hollow Cemetery in Concord, Massachusetts. Why on earth were we wandering through a cemetery, you query? Well, let me ‘splain.

Within the gates of this old cemetery you will find the final resting place of some incredibly famous Americans. However, these folks are not revolutionaries. Author’s Ridge is where the graves of Nathaniel Hawthorne, Henry David Thoreau, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Louisa May Alcott have all been laid to rest. Interestingly, they were all friends.

Henry David Thoreau’s most famous work is undoubtedly Walden, however I’ve never read it. I do remember from my studies that Thoreau was a naturalist and a transcendentalist. I don’t jive much with the latter as it’s in direct opposition to much of what I believe. That’s not why I haven’t read Walden, though. There’s no nefarious reason… I just haven’t. But I did drive by Walden Pond. The Walden Pond. I didn’t get any photographs because the cars lined up to get into the parking area were out of control.

Nathaniel Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter was one of the few books I studied in high school and liked (junior year required reading). I have not seen, nor do I intend to see, the film that was made from his work. I’m perfectly happy with my memories of the book and Hester Prynne’s strength of character in bearing the consequences for her actions. Her character’s eloquence is quite touching. For the final in my English class one semester, we had to choose a character or author we had studied and dress as this person and give a short speech in character. I chose Hester’s daughter Pearl. My mom, a wonder with a sewing machine, sewed me the most incredible costume (mine was hand’s down the best). I went into character the minute I was told it was my turn and scared the heeby-jeebies out of Brian (whose last name is omitted to protect the innocent). Brian sat right behind me for four years of high school English because, alphabetically speaking, his last name followed mine. I turned on him and asked if he wanted to play a game. He nearly jumped out of his skin. Ah, sweet success. I got an A. Woot!

Louisa May Alcott is one of my favorite authors of all time. Mom bought me Little Women right about the time I was in sixth grade, I was eleven or twelvish at the time. I read that book so many times I broke the binding. I continued reading Ms. Alcott and loved Little Men, Jo’s Boys, Eight Cousins, Rose in Bloom, and a few others. Eight Cousins is my favorite of her books, not Little Women. No little girl should be raised without the opportunity to let her imagination run wild with these stories. I didn’t like the film Little Women, primarily because none of the characters mirrored the images in my mind from hundreds of romps through their story. I liked my version better!

The most interesting grave of the bunch was definitely that of Ralph Waldo Emerson. I don’t know the significance of his headstone. As you can see, it’s quite a bit more ostentatious than his cohorts. Emerson is most well-known for his poetry and an essay entitled Nature. As poetry and I have a mutual dislike for each other, I’m not a big fan of Emerson. However, I can acknowledge his presence in American literature as being significant. He, too, was a transcendentalist (as was Alcott, though I failed to mention it). Coinciding with his transcendental beliefs, he was also an abolitionist. With this part of the transcendental movement I’m in complete agreement! These authors helped move the abolitionist cause forward in the northern states, pushing the country toward our Civil War and the eventual freeing of all slaves.

It is kind of cool to see four of America’s most well known and beloved authors buried next to each other. And they are literally next to each other. As in, within feet of each other.

And now you’ve been to Author’s Ridge in Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, Concord, Massachusetts.

Iambic Pentathlon

Someone I know was posting a tribute to Maurice Sendak, the acclaimed children’s author and illustrator, and was saying that he isn’t very good at writing poetry or iambic pentathlon… oh dear. It gave me a fit of giggles. William Shakespeare, the Bard, wrote in iambic pentameter and not iambic pentathlon (which I guess could be a rhymed and rhythmed contest involving five different athletic events). Anyway, that misspoken word gave me the giggles. Call me a big ol’ nerd who knew that Houston had a problem, but I don’t care. Serious giggles.

Day 3 of being a good girl for the sake of my girlish figure sees me goin’ strong. The girls and I had Ronald Star Day today as we do every Wednesday at lunch. Believe it or not, as long as I figure out my plan before stepping foot in a restaurant, I do very well. Yesterday was so busy Vicki and Cheryl wanted out of the building so we took a field trip to Noodles & Company, after which we all got a small ice cream at Cold Stone. I got a small Japanese Pan Noodles with steak at Noodles and sweet cream with fudge and caramel blended in at Cold Stone. Then? Oatmeal for dinner. The good news is that while oatmeal can balance out a higher number of calories earlier in the day, the added bonus is that I love the stuff. I really do. In fact, it’s what I ate for dinner again tonight.

I haven’t been able to hit the gym yet because the nerves in my legs have been firing on a daily basis. No bueno. Unfortunately, there’s not much I can do about it. And really, it sucks. On the flip side, the activity in my legs has been decreasing in minuscule increments, but some is better than none. I haven’t had any meds in my system for a few days so I’m not too upset.

But enough about diets and uncomfortable physical conditions… on to more travel adventures:

When I left Daniel in downtown Boston (he gamely volunteered to take the somethinerother line (I don’t remember its name) back home–I’m pretty sure he didn’t want to hear me bitch and moan about the worst drivers in the universe), I set out through the most irritating streets ever in search of the freeway. I am from southern California. I do freeways like a world champ. However, I don’t think I’ve ever been sooo happy to see a freeway in my entire life. Well, except when I found the Autobahn after being led on a giant wild goose chase in Germany when the GPS was trying to be “helpful” and insisted I drive down a street that was CLOSED instead of letting me go home. I admit I was very happy to see the Autobahn after a very stressful forty-five minutes or so.

So after locating the freeway, I headed to Hanscom Air Force Base, right smack dab in the heart of Lexington and Concord, Massachusetts. I encountered one of two GPS issues when it insisted I go in the back gate instead of the front gate. However, once I located the front gate (with the visitor’s center where I could get a pass from the MPs (Military Police) allowing me to come and go), I was home free. It was a blast to arrive and see Mark and Saundra.

See, Mark is four years older than me. I’ve known him since he was four. Not joking. And after being commissioned as an officer, Mark and Saundra’s first post was in southern California where they spent a handful of holidays and baseball games with us. As we were catching up, I mentioned to Mark that the relationships between our two families and two others are weird in that we’re truly more like aunts, uncles, and cousins. He agreed. After all, this is the guy who made a seven- or eight-year-old girl promise not to close her eyes when the faces all melted off at the end of Raiders of the Lost Ark. I may have been nine, I’m not sure. But it was in the den of the house I grew up in, that I can tell you! How’s that for serious history together?

After catching up a bit, Saundra threw me in the car and we drove to Minute Man National Historical Park. All mile or so from their house. Long drive, I know.

First stop? A stamp in my passport. Saundra was so impressed, she got passports for her three boys. Cool beans.

After watching the last showing of the movie for the day, we wandered outside and walked part of the Minute Man Trail. The photo at the top is the spot where Paul Revere–the Paul Revere (one if by land, two if by sea)–was arrested that infamous night. The engravings mark the time and date of his (and his two cohorts) capture. We then drove down to the Old North Bridge where I got a picture with a Regular. Yup, that’s what they were called. As you can see, I really do clean up nice when I want to. And that’s the outfit I wore to church… at Park Street Church. It’s possible I was the only person in jeans. And I know I was the only person sporting Vans tennis shoes. The congregants survived.

The Minute Man Statue was sculpted by Daniel Chester French (remember that name, we’ll come back to it later). He stands at the Old North Bridge in Concord, Massachusetts. What I didn’t know about this statue is that it is the logo for the National Guard and was used on World War II War Bonds as well as U.S. Savings Bonds. There wasn’t a particular person used as a model for the sculpture and it was meant to represent the average farmer who left his home to defend it.

Massachusetts is inordinately proud of its revolutionary history. Frankly, I think they have a right to be. I’ve said for many years now that the United States of America is a young country, especially when you look at European or Mediterranean history. However, for being such a young country (the Mayflower landed at Plymouth Rock in 1620 and we grew from there), we’ve packed a heck of a lot into the past (almost) 400 years. I think that’s one of the reasons I’ve always enjoyed studying U.S history so much. To me, it’s absolutely fascinating.

I can’t wait to take this vacation again. I’ve still got more to tell you about, but I would love to go back again in a year or two and do this all over again, filling in the holes I missed this time around. Why not, right? You know me… any excuse to travel!