Wednesday, August 2, 2017

Oh, the Places We've Gone!

A quick stop for lunch on our way to Boston left us with some great inspiration for the next leg of our adventure.

And an adventure it was.

It was a nonstop, action-packed, cousin-filled, crazy three and a half days that somehow felt like both a blink and a lifetime at the same time. I can't explain it.

It began with lobster and steak and s'mores and a "driveway-in" movie.

The next day, there were spooks and haunts and true historical tales and visits to memorials for our 9th great grandmother, who was hanged as a witch in Salem.

"Let Goody Martin rest in peace, I never knew her harm a fly,
And witch or not - God knows - not I?
I know who swore her life away;
And as God lives, I'd not condemn
An Indian dog on word of them."  -John Greenleaf Whittier

After we had done all we could manage and seen as much of the town as humanly possible with the munchkins in tow, we decided it would be a great idea to go to the carnival. 
Because. Childhood. Y'all it ends so quickly. Sometimes you just have to ride the rides.

There was about 500 miles of walking as we first toured Boston Common and the Public Garden then walked the entire freedom trail, including the 294 steps to the top of the Bunker Hill monument. Sing along with us, now, as we Follow the Yellow Red Brick Road with Sweet Caroline.

Please remember that this was 3 adults plus FIVE CHILDREN UNDER TEN YEARS OLD.  We must be crazy.
If we weren't then, they might have driven us there now.

Then just for fun we basically did the whole trail again while riding on a trolley.

After that, I'm pretty sure our feet were about to fall off. And the kids' brains could not possibly absorb another historical detail. We all needed a break.

So what did we do?

We hopped in the car and drove to New Hampshire. Because they have pretty lakes there. And mountains. And more cousins. Who have kayaks and are gracious hosts who don't mind having their own vacation crashed for an afternoon. And it was glorious. 

A perfect ending.

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