MA-NY Adventures
20 April
I left work a half hour early. John's flight was due in at 9:45, and I was worried that I'd be late. (A week or two previous to this I'd dreamed that I was at home at 9PM on the night of his arrival when I suddenly realized that I should be in Boston. So that didn't help.)
Rachel was good enough to keep me company for the drive to Logan, which helped assuage my anxiety. (For those of you who don't know -- all two of you, more'n likely -- I sometimes have difficulty going places by myself.)
As it turns out, we arrived a bit early. So we giggled and people-watched and played "that's not him." (This game consisted of watching all the arrivals emerge and saying, "nope," or "not enough hair," or "if I were to make a list of people who weren't John....") The inevitable conclusion to this game was, of course, seeing John -- tall and luggage-laden and pony-tailed -- come through the doors to the lobby.
After brief introductions, we were on our way back to Three Rivers, Protectorate of the Palmer Empire. (Y'all can thank Allan for that description.)
Back at the Crackhouse, an antihistamine-armored Rocket got to meet the Squidjees. Even Kolya. Then we settled down in my room and exchanged small gifts: he gave me a clutch of Kinder Eggs, a Rosetta Stone paperweight, and my very own abbey (in the form of a Westminster refrigerator magnet); I gave him Milk Duds, a bunch of hair elastics, and a plush Giant Microbe of the common cold virus.
Before bed, I introduced my houseguest to the S'more. Nearly 27 years on the planet and he'd never before tasted one! Of course I had to rectify this situation immediately. And if I took inordinate pleasure in watching him trying to eat S'mores without making a complete mess, is that so wrong? Well, maybe it is. But no moreso than his own amusement at the thought of feeding them to his ultra-conservative grandparents.
21 April
After a breakfast of pancakes, we drove to the southwest corner of Massachusetts so that John could see Bash Bish Falls. (I figured we should visit this waterfall before our trip to Canada, as it'd seem pretty anticlimactic after Niagara.)
On the return drive we stopped at a Friendly's for what was supposed to be a quick bite to eat. Unfortunately, our order was temporarily mislaid, and we had a rather long wait. A trip to the ladies room revealed that I'd started my period a bit early. And the subsequent trip to my car revealed that Otto's glovebox was sadly devoid of feminine products.
Gah. I have but this to say about Stockbridge, Massachusetts: sure, it's a quaint and pretty little town, but it could really use a CVfuckingS, you know? The general store carries Summer's Eve products and baby diapers, but no tampons or pads. Christ, doesn't anyone in that town menstruate?!
Anyway, thanks to John for locating the Lenox Village Pharmacy. And thanks to the pharmacy cashier for pointing me to the public restroom across the street, in the Town Hall.
Stupid hormones.
On the drive home, I proposed a stop at the Yankee Candle in Deerfield. Poor John was expecting an unassuming candle shop, so he was a bit taken aback by the Black Forest, Bavarian Christmas Village, Nutcracker Castle....And it had been long enough since my last visit that there were surprises for me, too. For one thing, the toy department had been completely remodeled. For another, the lederhosen-clad Oompah Boys had been replaced by a hillbilly trio in red plaid flannels. Go figure.
That evening, we stopped in at my brother's house (to borrow his Street Pilot and deliver my sister-in-law's birthday gifts) and my parents' place (to borrow Dad's binoculars). So John got to meet the whole Snowden clan -- mother, father, brother, sister-in-law, nephew, and assorted animals. And he lives to tell the tale!
Finally, we swung by the Crackhouse to pick up Rachel. The three of us headed to the Ground Round for a late dinner....Okay, that's not true. John and I had appetizers, and each of us ordered dessert. The whole excursion was just an excuse to eat fried cheesecake. Mmmm...fried cheesecake.
22 April
The next morning, we loaded up the car, programmed the GPS, and began the trek to Niagara Falls. We made one detour, just for the sake of visiting Kaatskill Kaleidoscope, at Catskill Corners. This little shop is home to the world's largest kaleidoscope: a converted silo. For a fee, you can go inside and watch a 10-minute film projected into the mirrored tower. John and I got a private showing. We laid ourselves down on the floor and watched the acid trip unfolding above us. Much with the coolness, that was.
Of course, the shop itself was pretty spectacular. We saw all kinds of scopes, by many different artists, and John even bought one. (It's gorgeous. Instead of a wheel or a bead chamber or a marble, there's a glass bottle fitted to the end. The bottle holds colorful baubles in an oil suspension, so the objects bob about slowly when you rotate the bottle.)
We grabbed drinks and sandwich wraps at Catskill Corners, then continued to Niagara Falls.
To Be Continued...
I left work a half hour early. John's flight was due in at 9:45, and I was worried that I'd be late. (A week or two previous to this I'd dreamed that I was at home at 9PM on the night of his arrival when I suddenly realized that I should be in Boston. So that didn't help.)
Rachel was good enough to keep me company for the drive to Logan, which helped assuage my anxiety. (For those of you who don't know -- all two of you, more'n likely -- I sometimes have difficulty going places by myself.)
As it turns out, we arrived a bit early. So we giggled and people-watched and played "that's not him." (This game consisted of watching all the arrivals emerge and saying, "nope," or "not enough hair," or "if I were to make a list of people who weren't John....") The inevitable conclusion to this game was, of course, seeing John -- tall and luggage-laden and pony-tailed -- come through the doors to the lobby.
After brief introductions, we were on our way back to Three Rivers, Protectorate of the Palmer Empire. (Y'all can thank Allan for that description.)
Back at the Crackhouse, an antihistamine-armored Rocket got to meet the Squidjees. Even Kolya. Then we settled down in my room and exchanged small gifts: he gave me a clutch of Kinder Eggs, a Rosetta Stone paperweight, and my very own abbey (in the form of a Westminster refrigerator magnet); I gave him Milk Duds, a bunch of hair elastics, and a plush Giant Microbe of the common cold virus.
Before bed, I introduced my houseguest to the S'more. Nearly 27 years on the planet and he'd never before tasted one! Of course I had to rectify this situation immediately. And if I took inordinate pleasure in watching him trying to eat S'mores without making a complete mess, is that so wrong? Well, maybe it is. But no moreso than his own amusement at the thought of feeding them to his ultra-conservative grandparents.
21 April
After a breakfast of pancakes, we drove to the southwest corner of Massachusetts so that John could see Bash Bish Falls. (I figured we should visit this waterfall before our trip to Canada, as it'd seem pretty anticlimactic after Niagara.)
On the return drive we stopped at a Friendly's for what was supposed to be a quick bite to eat. Unfortunately, our order was temporarily mislaid, and we had a rather long wait. A trip to the ladies room revealed that I'd started my period a bit early. And the subsequent trip to my car revealed that Otto's glovebox was sadly devoid of feminine products.
Gah. I have but this to say about Stockbridge, Massachusetts: sure, it's a quaint and pretty little town, but it could really use a CVfuckingS, you know? The general store carries Summer's Eve products and baby diapers, but no tampons or pads. Christ, doesn't anyone in that town menstruate?!
Anyway, thanks to John for locating the Lenox Village Pharmacy. And thanks to the pharmacy cashier for pointing me to the public restroom across the street, in the Town Hall.
Stupid hormones.
On the drive home, I proposed a stop at the Yankee Candle in Deerfield. Poor John was expecting an unassuming candle shop, so he was a bit taken aback by the Black Forest, Bavarian Christmas Village, Nutcracker Castle....And it had been long enough since my last visit that there were surprises for me, too. For one thing, the toy department had been completely remodeled. For another, the lederhosen-clad Oompah Boys had been replaced by a hillbilly trio in red plaid flannels. Go figure.
That evening, we stopped in at my brother's house (to borrow his Street Pilot and deliver my sister-in-law's birthday gifts) and my parents' place (to borrow Dad's binoculars). So John got to meet the whole Snowden clan -- mother, father, brother, sister-in-law, nephew, and assorted animals. And he lives to tell the tale!
Finally, we swung by the Crackhouse to pick up Rachel. The three of us headed to the Ground Round for a late dinner....Okay, that's not true. John and I had appetizers, and each of us ordered dessert. The whole excursion was just an excuse to eat fried cheesecake. Mmmm...fried cheesecake.
22 April
The next morning, we loaded up the car, programmed the GPS, and began the trek to Niagara Falls. We made one detour, just for the sake of visiting Kaatskill Kaleidoscope, at Catskill Corners. This little shop is home to the world's largest kaleidoscope: a converted silo. For a fee, you can go inside and watch a 10-minute film projected into the mirrored tower. John and I got a private showing. We laid ourselves down on the floor and watched the acid trip unfolding above us. Much with the coolness, that was.
Of course, the shop itself was pretty spectacular. We saw all kinds of scopes, by many different artists, and John even bought one. (It's gorgeous. Instead of a wheel or a bead chamber or a marble, there's a glass bottle fitted to the end. The bottle holds colorful baubles in an oil suspension, so the objects bob about slowly when you rotate the bottle.)
We grabbed drinks and sandwich wraps at Catskill Corners, then continued to Niagara Falls.
To Be Continued...