Hard to believe it’s already Wednesday of the so-called vacation week.  Just sent the kids off to school for their two-day vacation from vacation, and now it’s time to get a thing or two down about our travels.  Later today or early tomorrow I’ll add some things from the notebook about this vacation’s reading, Cloud Atlas, by David Mitchell.

First stop was Providence-ish, as we hit Smithfield, RI for Gaby’s confirmation party. It was just the Catholic side of the family, if you can call everyone Catholic, so it was a nice sibling and family reunion, as everyone was there.  Far more food than we could eat, a trellis of gluten-free cupcakes (I should find out what a gluten is, as it is very important that they be free), and a gaggle of kids playing a hide-and-seek game whose name I can’t remember – it’s the one in which everyone seeks and only one kid hides. Kate won when Aunt Maureen ensconced her in the cabinet under the sink ordinarily reserved for the garbage can.

After confirmation celebration, I and my girls and my brother and his girls headed east toward Plymouth, MA, where my brother’s snoring lifted the roof and set it down, lifted the roof and set it down.  You’d have been amazed, LeBron.  You think this kind of thing happens only in cartoons, or that there is something seriously structurally wrong with the house, but no – certain snorers have this kind of power, and my brother is one of them.  Fascinating.

Sunday found us on a trip to Boston, not to scout the Celtics, who are two possessions up on the Knicks as I write this, but to encounter some of the Revolutionary War stuff that Emma likes so well.  First stop was Southie to pick up Caitlin at her new digs. She and some friends had done a little birthday celebrating the night before, so Caitlin was stepping, how shall we say, gingerly.  Her apartment has a great location: walk to the corner, left on Summer Street, and before you know it, you’re at South Station.

We parked in a garage near Faneuil Hall and set out for a place to eat lunch.  The day was more warm than chilly, more sunny than cloudy, and Faneuil Hall was pretty crowded.  I had been here before, back in the old days, if you know what I mean, so it was kind of strange to go past Clark’s and The Black Rose and have those old memories come creeping up.  Caitlin suggested we eat at McFadden’s, and we were the only folks there, which tells you that the place you’ll find a table is at the outskirts of a tourist area, as nobody ever wants to stop at the first restaurant they walk by.  As I was recalling the memories of an era gone by, Caitlin was living them, and had to excuse herself after a failed attempt at eating to head back home to nap.  And thus, my daughters had their first lesson in hangovers.

Our visits to eastern cities are nothing without a little historical touristing, so we went first to the site of the Boston Massacre, an event that had earlier in the fifth grade year prompted Emma to charge Thomas Preston with murder, murder I say.  From there, it was up a few steps and into the Old State House Museum, where for some reason my children bought copies of the Declaration of Independence, as if we hadn’t gotten them last April in Philly.  The museum has some interactive exhibits, but not the high-tech kind characteristic of the Constitution Center in the polis of Brotherly Love – you might want to stop by before you dispatch the Sixers from the playoffs, LeBron. 

What was even better than the State House was seeing the view of North Boston and Logan Airport from the conference room at Aunt Mary Katherine’s office, up on the 26^th floor.  We pretty much triangulated the locations of the Old North Church and Paul Revere’s House from there, and drove by them shortly afterward, as parking is a bit scarce on North Boston’s narrow streets, and the clock was reaching that hour when we were going to have to begin the journey back to New York.

Other than those events, the vacation has been all like whatev.  Monday we picked up some necessary sporting goods, and Kate learned triple threat position and the jump stop.  Tuesday was a trip to Hop for the girls, and sitting in the lobby writing about Cloud Atlas for moi.  How’s that for a teaser into the next post?

Hey, did you notice that I hyperlinked the crap out of this post?  That's what a guy does when he's on vacation.  I think you'll learn a lot today, LeBron.