(Bud hasn’t stopped smiling since we arrived. So why is he frowning here?)
This week I am in beautiful, lush Massachusetts with Bud, visiting my brother, Bruce (the children’s Uncle Buck) and his lovely but feisty wife, Alison. If you thought the GOP convention lacked pigment, you should see the hair around here. Bud, bless his heart, made his flights and changes almost uneventfully and then we met up at Logan and drove here to bucolic Upton, MA where Bruce has a nice blue saltbox next to a small marsh with the usual fine assortment of marshy-type birds and amphibians. And wild turkeys. I slept with my window open and although it was a bit cool, it’s nice to be out of the city and hear night noises other than sirens and helicopter rotors.
I said almost uneventfully. Bud’s lucky that he starts at the tiny one-gate, one runway airport up near Lost Loon Lodge so that when his big pocket knife turns up in his luggage they merely smile and offer to hold it for him until he returns. He said, “I don’t know, it must have just fallen out of my pants when I was packing.” Ah, me. He sat up the night before his early morning flight so he wouldn’t miss his plane and then got himself to the airport by five. After he changed in Minneapolis for Boston, the man next to him helped him with his seat belt and fastened it so tightly it messed with his ostomy bag. We won’t go into details here, but Bud said, “He was a pretty nice guy and when we got off the plane he said, ‘Go with Jesus’ and that’s just fine but he tore my bag loose.” Speaking of 28th anniversaries, Bud is celebrating 28 years without a bladder. I’m always amazed at the parts a person can do without. Yesterday we stopped at a couple stores before we found him a pair of a suspenders to supplant his belt.
Then we headed over to Tower Hill Botanical Gardens. Wow. I see nice gardens often: Garfield Park, Matthaei, Missouri, the Sunken Gardens in Florida. I liked this place best of all. Tower Hill is relatively new; they just got up and running in the late 70s. This year they are celebrating the 28th anniversary of their first flower show. (Really. I’m not kidding, Mary.) The setting, overlooking Mount Wachusetts, is about as lovely as anything I’ve seen.
(I just have my small camera and it really didn’t capture the breadth of the peaceful view from here.)
(I had a garden full of these fall blooming anemones in Ann Arbor and I can barely wait until I can grow them again.)
(This datura was intoxicating and I didn’t have so much as a nibble.)
The weather was perfect, cool and sunny. In the little lily pond there were frogs sunbathing on most every pad.
In addition to pleasant sight seeing, we’re eating. A lot. Visits are an opportunity to feed Bud well, but I think I will be working off this week for a while. We’ve stopped for lobster rolls, giant paninis and last night Bruce cooked the best chicken picatta I’ve ever had. Oh, and we’re yelling at the television over baseball and politics. We’re united on the political front but the Red Sox/Tampa Rays series is causing a little rivalry. (Did I mention that Alison can be feisty?)
Tomorrow, we’re off to the Southwick Zoo. I’ll let you know if I see anyone especially interesting. I hope you’re enjoying an equally happy week. Oh, go wish Miz Mary a happy 28th anniversary. I figure she was eleven when she got married.