I pack little in the way of clothes, but much in the way of stuff. My carry-on tote will keep me from becoming thirsty or getting bored, should we hit a ten hour delay along the way.
It's been a long time since I've been on a real vacation; you know, the kind where you stay in a hotel, relax, and eat great meals while hanging out with people you want to be with.
Then I realize, my three days in Boston qualifies. There is only one difference. My hotel is free, and is called M's house; it's nicer than any Ritz.
Here are the highlights:
Having Thursday dinner with my sister Jean at Lincoln
Tavern and Restaurant in South Boston.
It’s a great little place in a neighborhood that used to be a lot more
downscale when I lived there. Sleeping in Sam’s large king Tempur-Pedic bed with
the room temperature kept low. I love my
bed; I love Sam’s more. Running around Boston, Newton, and places further
south with M all day Friday. It doesn’t matter if it’s shopping at Whole Foods,
strolling around Wrentham, talking to the owner of a small boutique, or selling
old text books on Amazon; it is never dull with M. Eating lunch on Saturday at Aquitaine Bar & Vin
Bistro with M, my sister Jean, and my mom. The mussels are lacking in
substance and quantity; but are more than compensated for by the fries,
atmosphere, and of course company.
Being treated to a luxuriating experience at a small, nondescript place in downtown Waltham called Happy Feet Reflexology.
The place belies its nondescript exterior. It's clean, efficiently run, and very popular. $35 for a 60-minute body massage, about 2/3 of it on just my
feet. I lie in a dark room, next to M,
along with five other women. Each
of us is tended to by a non-English speaking man. The treatment is beautifully
choreographed, as I kept peeking. I can feel layers of stress exiting my
body. I know it’ll find it’s way back, but for the moment, it's heavenly.
Celebrating V’s birthday at Catalyst in
Cambridge. 
V
looks exactly as she did when the three of us met at Gillette in
1981. She could be celebrating her 30th. The food (described as modern American cuisine) is excellent and
plentiful.
Driving through Boston and Charlestown. I
haven’t lived here since 1984, and in that time, the city has transformed
itself in many ways. It really is a beautiful city, even as seen through a dirty windshield.
I love Boston's spirit, strength, pride, and history.
New York is my home; it is where
my heart is. But a big piece of it will
always be reserved for Boston.
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