We've returned from Massachusetts, back to the realities of life. The ten days Harvin, Haley, and I spent touring literary Massachusetts were wonderful. Here, a few of my thoughts along the journey.
Scroll down and begin with the first entry--and enjoy.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Travel Journal 8: The End is Near
Sunday, August 9, 2009
11:34 a.m.
We’re on the homestretch, currently about 20 miles from Richmond, VA—where we’ll stop at the Poe Museum. I’m so ready to be home.
Yesterday we saw the Mark Twain house in Hartford. It was by far the most gorgeous of all the houses we’ve seen this week. And hearing the stories about Twain was fascinating. I love Twain—he was such a loveable rascal, much like his beloved characters Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn.
Then we set out for the American School for the Deaf—the first Deaf school in the country, founded by Thomas Hopkins Gallaudet and Laurent Clerc. But we never found it. The GPS couldn’t locate the address, so after driving up and down Main Street for half an hour, we went back to the Twain house to get directions. According to Google, we were only 2 miles from the school. Two miles. We went back out, but never found it. It was like it had been hidden from us—sort of like Diagon Alley is hidden from the Muggles in Harry Potter. The only explanation I have is that it wasn’t God’s time for me to see the school yet. Of course I was a bit disappointed, but I’m trusting that God’s timing is perfect.
11:34 a.m.
We’re on the homestretch, currently about 20 miles from Richmond, VA—where we’ll stop at the Poe Museum. I’m so ready to be home.
Yesterday we saw the Mark Twain house in Hartford. It was by far the most gorgeous of all the houses we’ve seen this week. And hearing the stories about Twain was fascinating. I love Twain—he was such a loveable rascal, much like his beloved characters Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn.
Then we set out for the American School for the Deaf—the first Deaf school in the country, founded by Thomas Hopkins Gallaudet and Laurent Clerc. But we never found it. The GPS couldn’t locate the address, so after driving up and down Main Street for half an hour, we went back to the Twain house to get directions. According to Google, we were only 2 miles from the school. Two miles. We went back out, but never found it. It was like it had been hidden from us—sort of like Diagon Alley is hidden from the Muggles in Harry Potter. The only explanation I have is that it wasn’t God’s time for me to see the school yet. Of course I was a bit disappointed, but I’m trusting that God’s timing is perfect.
Travel Journal 7:The Wonders of Concord, MA
Friday, August 7, 2009
7:21 p.m.
I’ve been totally slack in my journaling these past 36 hours. I only hope that I can remember all that has transpired since yesterday morning. We’ve packed so much into each day that my memory bank is overwhelmingly full.
We started out at the Longfellow house, which Harvin was especially excited about. We arrived just minutes before the next tour departed (we’ve had exceptionally good timing when it comes to tours). As we were given the ground rules, our guide—Abby—informed us that we could take pictures INSIDE the house so long as we didn’t use the flash (which I accidentally did a couple of times—oops!). Harvin and I were ecstatic! The chance to take photos inside a house museum presents itself so rarely that this opportunity was thrilling. (Yes, I realize we’re nerds. It’s okay.) Unfortunately, Kodie’s (Jess’ camera) batteries were dying, and my extras were in my bag, locked in a closet in the lobby. So I had to be careful to conserve his juice. Still, I got some pretty good shots.
After leaving Cambridge we stopped in Lexington to grab some lunch from McDonald’s (sweet tea for the first time in a week!) as we headed back to Concord. Have I mentioned that I LOVE Concord? I do—very much.
Our first stop was the Emerson house. While the house itself was quite nice, I wasn’t impressed with the logistics of the tour. People come in and join the tour in progress wherever it may be, then detach from the group once they make it back to wherever they began the tour. Additionally, the guides switched out every couple of rooms. The whole process just felt disjointed. And then there was the woman in our group who KEPT TOUCHING THINGS. There’s a certain amount of respect that house museums require—and one is that you don’t touch things—especially 150-year-old books. I swear, this lady ticked me off. Definitely not one of my favorite tours. Though I did enjoy envisioning the Emerson children running down the back stairs, yelling “Here comes fun” as Thoreau arrived at the house.
Next we stopped by the Minuteman National Historic Park visitor’s center—which Jordan would have loved—and the Paul Revere capture site. Again, the closeness of history was awe-inspiring as we stood on the spot where the “regulars” captured Revere, Dawes, and Prescott during their midnight ride to Concord.
The third stop in Concord was the Old Manse where both the Emersons and the Hawthornes lived. We were the only people on the tour. Our guide was FANTASTIC. Her name was Joan, she’d been a stand up comedienne in Vegas for twenty years, and she was a riot. She spoke of the Emersons and Hawthornes as if they were old friends, sharing juicy tidbits which I’m sure didn’t find themselves being told on regular tours. She even told us about a t-shirt idea the staff had, but that had been turned down by the trustees board. The tee’s slogan: “Hawthorne was a hottie” would be accompanied by the “angelic photo” of Hawthorne. *sigh* I’d wear that shirt. She told us they were going to have the shirts made anyway and that if we left our email addresses, she’d let us know when they were ready. (Yes, she quickly realized that we are diehard Hawthorne fans.) Awesome tour.
The last stop in Concord was sleepy Hollow Cemetery. We arrived just before sunset—the perfect setting for the end of our time in Concord. There, all the literary celebrities of Concord were laid to rest more than 100 years ago—Hawthorne, Thoreau, Alcott; and, of course the “sugar daddy of American literature”—Emerson. How poignant that they were not only neighbors in life, but remain neighbors still today. We left stones and pennies on the graves of Thoreau, Hawthorne, and Alcott; a branch—the ugliest—on Emerson’s boulder (for Dr. Thompson); we left these behind in homage to the great writers who have shaped our lives, our love for American literature.
After a few moments of reflection—and waiting for other r visitors to move on—we settled in to read to Hawthorne. We took turns reading to him, sitting by his tombstone, videoing ourselves to immortalize those moments. Haley began by reading both the introduction and conclusion of Hawthorne’s own “Ethan Brand” (a story which haunts every English major who has passed through Dr. Sepko’s lit theory class at NGU in the past six years or so); Harvin offered Longfellow’s poem “Hawthorne”—which was written as a tribute to the deceased author; and I concluded with an excerpt from another of Hawthorne’s short stories—“The Minister’s Black Veil.” Such wonderful memories that we will carry with us for many years to come.
As we descended Author’s Ridge, we were all quite silent. On the way back to the car, I concluded that leaving Sleepy Hollow—as well as Concord in general—was akin to leaving old friends behind, like saying goodbye. Having been a part of their world for two days, departing company was saddening—even though they’ve all been dead for more than 100 years.
Farewell, Concord.
10:15 p.m.
A quick recap before I crash for the night:
Today’s agenda specified that we check out the hotel in Danvers and head west to Amherst to visit The Homestead (Emily Dickinson’s home), as well as her brother’s house next door—The Evergreens. We were also planning to stop by the Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art. Once in Amherst, we opted for the hour-and-a-half tour of “Emily Dickinson’s World”—and again, we were the only people on the tour. Our guide, Brooke, was about our age, perhaps a little older, and quite knowledgeable about Dickinson. The tour was great, but I’d imagined the house a bit different—more original/authentic, I guess. The house has passed through many hands over the years—it’s only been a museum for about six years—so very few of Emily’s things are left in the house. I’ve found that original furniture is one of my most important requirements for a good house museum. Next door, however, The Evergreens holds an abundance of original furniture and décor. It hasn’t been touched since Emily’s brother’s family lived there. The carpet is threadbare and the walls are faded, but it’s authentic.
After the tour, we walked through the town to West Cemetery where Emily is buried. I’m turning into such a grave-hunting nerd. A wrought iron fence surrounds the Dickinson family plot, keeping fans off the grave of the poet and her family, but near enough to satisfy her visitors. As we walked away from the grave, Harvin mentioned that the gate had been unlocked; we could’ve walked right in; however, there were several landscapers mowing in the vicinity, so we refrained from treading upon Emily Dickinson’s hallowed ground.
Next we had lunch at an upscale-casual restaurant called Judie’s in downtown Amherst. Then we browsed a couple of local bookshops. Our last stop was to be the E.C. museum, but we got back to the car just 15 minute before it closed. We weren’t too disappointed because this stop wasn’t high priority—it was just an extra we’d thrown in. So we drove on to our hotel in Hartford, CT; chilled for a bit, and had dinner at Ruby Tuesday. Twain house and the ASD tomorrow!
7:21 p.m.
I’ve been totally slack in my journaling these past 36 hours. I only hope that I can remember all that has transpired since yesterday morning. We’ve packed so much into each day that my memory bank is overwhelmingly full.
We started out at the Longfellow house, which Harvin was especially excited about. We arrived just minutes before the next tour departed (we’ve had exceptionally good timing when it comes to tours). As we were given the ground rules, our guide—Abby—informed us that we could take pictures INSIDE the house so long as we didn’t use the flash (which I accidentally did a couple of times—oops!). Harvin and I were ecstatic! The chance to take photos inside a house museum presents itself so rarely that this opportunity was thrilling. (Yes, I realize we’re nerds. It’s okay.) Unfortunately, Kodie’s (Jess’ camera) batteries were dying, and my extras were in my bag, locked in a closet in the lobby. So I had to be careful to conserve his juice. Still, I got some pretty good shots.
After leaving Cambridge we stopped in Lexington to grab some lunch from McDonald’s (sweet tea for the first time in a week!) as we headed back to Concord. Have I mentioned that I LOVE Concord? I do—very much.
Our first stop was the Emerson house. While the house itself was quite nice, I wasn’t impressed with the logistics of the tour. People come in and join the tour in progress wherever it may be, then detach from the group once they make it back to wherever they began the tour. Additionally, the guides switched out every couple of rooms. The whole process just felt disjointed. And then there was the woman in our group who KEPT TOUCHING THINGS. There’s a certain amount of respect that house museums require—and one is that you don’t touch things—especially 150-year-old books. I swear, this lady ticked me off. Definitely not one of my favorite tours. Though I did enjoy envisioning the Emerson children running down the back stairs, yelling “Here comes fun” as Thoreau arrived at the house.
Next we stopped by the Minuteman National Historic Park visitor’s center—which Jordan would have loved—and the Paul Revere capture site. Again, the closeness of history was awe-inspiring as we stood on the spot where the “regulars” captured Revere, Dawes, and Prescott during their midnight ride to Concord.
The third stop in Concord was the Old Manse where both the Emersons and the Hawthornes lived. We were the only people on the tour. Our guide was FANTASTIC. Her name was Joan, she’d been a stand up comedienne in Vegas for twenty years, and she was a riot. She spoke of the Emersons and Hawthornes as if they were old friends, sharing juicy tidbits which I’m sure didn’t find themselves being told on regular tours. She even told us about a t-shirt idea the staff had, but that had been turned down by the trustees board. The tee’s slogan: “Hawthorne was a hottie” would be accompanied by the “angelic photo” of Hawthorne. *sigh* I’d wear that shirt. She told us they were going to have the shirts made anyway and that if we left our email addresses, she’d let us know when they were ready. (Yes, she quickly realized that we are diehard Hawthorne fans.) Awesome tour.
The last stop in Concord was sleepy Hollow Cemetery. We arrived just before sunset—the perfect setting for the end of our time in Concord. There, all the literary celebrities of Concord were laid to rest more than 100 years ago—Hawthorne, Thoreau, Alcott; and, of course the “sugar daddy of American literature”—Emerson. How poignant that they were not only neighbors in life, but remain neighbors still today. We left stones and pennies on the graves of Thoreau, Hawthorne, and Alcott; a branch—the ugliest—on Emerson’s boulder (for Dr. Thompson); we left these behind in homage to the great writers who have shaped our lives, our love for American literature.
After a few moments of reflection—and waiting for other r visitors to move on—we settled in to read to Hawthorne. We took turns reading to him, sitting by his tombstone, videoing ourselves to immortalize those moments. Haley began by reading both the introduction and conclusion of Hawthorne’s own “Ethan Brand” (a story which haunts every English major who has passed through Dr. Sepko’s lit theory class at NGU in the past six years or so); Harvin offered Longfellow’s poem “Hawthorne”—which was written as a tribute to the deceased author; and I concluded with an excerpt from another of Hawthorne’s short stories—“The Minister’s Black Veil.” Such wonderful memories that we will carry with us for many years to come.
As we descended Author’s Ridge, we were all quite silent. On the way back to the car, I concluded that leaving Sleepy Hollow—as well as Concord in general—was akin to leaving old friends behind, like saying goodbye. Having been a part of their world for two days, departing company was saddening—even though they’ve all been dead for more than 100 years.
Farewell, Concord.
10:15 p.m.
A quick recap before I crash for the night:
Today’s agenda specified that we check out the hotel in Danvers and head west to Amherst to visit The Homestead (Emily Dickinson’s home), as well as her brother’s house next door—The Evergreens. We were also planning to stop by the Eric Carle Museum of Picture Book Art. Once in Amherst, we opted for the hour-and-a-half tour of “Emily Dickinson’s World”—and again, we were the only people on the tour. Our guide, Brooke, was about our age, perhaps a little older, and quite knowledgeable about Dickinson. The tour was great, but I’d imagined the house a bit different—more original/authentic, I guess. The house has passed through many hands over the years—it’s only been a museum for about six years—so very few of Emily’s things are left in the house. I’ve found that original furniture is one of my most important requirements for a good house museum. Next door, however, The Evergreens holds an abundance of original furniture and décor. It hasn’t been touched since Emily’s brother’s family lived there. The carpet is threadbare and the walls are faded, but it’s authentic.
After the tour, we walked through the town to West Cemetery where Emily is buried. I’m turning into such a grave-hunting nerd. A wrought iron fence surrounds the Dickinson family plot, keeping fans off the grave of the poet and her family, but near enough to satisfy her visitors. As we walked away from the grave, Harvin mentioned that the gate had been unlocked; we could’ve walked right in; however, there were several landscapers mowing in the vicinity, so we refrained from treading upon Emily Dickinson’s hallowed ground.
Next we had lunch at an upscale-casual restaurant called Judie’s in downtown Amherst. Then we browsed a couple of local bookshops. Our last stop was to be the E.C. museum, but we got back to the car just 15 minute before it closed. We weren’t too disappointed because this stop wasn’t high priority—it was just an extra we’d thrown in. So we drove on to our hotel in Hartford, CT; chilled for a bit, and had dinner at Ruby Tuesday. Twain house and the ASD tomorrow!
Travel Journal 6:Tears and Treasures
Thursday, August 6, 2009
7:02 a.m.
Yesterday was such an overwhelming day. We saw so much and experienced a closer link to some of our favorite authors than we ever could have imagined. To stand on the edge of Emerson’s study, to gaze at Thoreau’s humble desk, to STAND IN THE VERY ROOMS where Hawthorne, Thoreau, Emerson, Alcott, and Fuller gathered together, to be surrounded by Hawthorne’s furniture (including the table at which he ate, the handmade desk where he stood to write and the cabinet where he kept his manuscripts in his beloved sky parlor), to wander around the room in which Louisa May Alcott wrote Little Women, to see the staircase where she and her sisters played Pilgrims Progress, to stand in the parlor of Orchard House and envision the Alcott/March sisters putting on plays for their guests: it’s unimaginable until you’re standing there in the midst of it all.
As we approached the Concord Museum yesterday, we had our first moment of collective awe. Standing off to the side of the path was a little wooden structure. Harvin paused to get a closer look at the sign on the building: “Thoreau’s cabin.” We all gasped and moved closer quickly. Of course, it was only a replica—which we all knew, but momentarily forgot. Still, we were giddy.
After a brief conversation with the lady at the front desk of the museum (who was quite intrigued by the existence of Travelers Rest, S.C.), we set off through the exhibits. Once we entered the Emerson and Thoreau exhibits, the three of us fell into a mutual silence as we each contemplated the nearness of literary history.
Moving on, we had lunch at Walden Grille. Then we set off to the appropriately-named shop down the street: Thoreauly Antiques. There we perused books and other treasures. Nothing really caught my attention until we were about to leave. I was looking around when a small, worn box in the corner caught my eye. I lifted it from a basket and gasped in excitement. Opening the box, I turned to Haley and said, “I FOUND THEM! I found Dr. Sepko’s author cards!” Doc has told us many times how she first found her love of literature sitting on her grandmother’s front porch, learning about various authors from these cards. She’s been looking for another set for years. To find something so precious for someone we treasure infinitely is exhilarating. I can’t wait to give them to her—we’ve already predicted tears all around!
Well, I must pause in my reflection to get ready to head out to Concord again today; the Old Manse, Emerson House, and Sleepy Hollow Cemetery are in the plans for today!
7:02 a.m.
Yesterday was such an overwhelming day. We saw so much and experienced a closer link to some of our favorite authors than we ever could have imagined. To stand on the edge of Emerson’s study, to gaze at Thoreau’s humble desk, to STAND IN THE VERY ROOMS where Hawthorne, Thoreau, Emerson, Alcott, and Fuller gathered together, to be surrounded by Hawthorne’s furniture (including the table at which he ate, the handmade desk where he stood to write and the cabinet where he kept his manuscripts in his beloved sky parlor), to wander around the room in which Louisa May Alcott wrote Little Women, to see the staircase where she and her sisters played Pilgrims Progress, to stand in the parlor of Orchard House and envision the Alcott/March sisters putting on plays for their guests: it’s unimaginable until you’re standing there in the midst of it all.
As we approached the Concord Museum yesterday, we had our first moment of collective awe. Standing off to the side of the path was a little wooden structure. Harvin paused to get a closer look at the sign on the building: “Thoreau’s cabin.” We all gasped and moved closer quickly. Of course, it was only a replica—which we all knew, but momentarily forgot. Still, we were giddy.
After a brief conversation with the lady at the front desk of the museum (who was quite intrigued by the existence of Travelers Rest, S.C.), we set off through the exhibits. Once we entered the Emerson and Thoreau exhibits, the three of us fell into a mutual silence as we each contemplated the nearness of literary history.
Moving on, we had lunch at Walden Grille. Then we set off to the appropriately-named shop down the street: Thoreauly Antiques. There we perused books and other treasures. Nothing really caught my attention until we were about to leave. I was looking around when a small, worn box in the corner caught my eye. I lifted it from a basket and gasped in excitement. Opening the box, I turned to Haley and said, “I FOUND THEM! I found Dr. Sepko’s author cards!” Doc has told us many times how she first found her love of literature sitting on her grandmother’s front porch, learning about various authors from these cards. She’s been looking for another set for years. To find something so precious for someone we treasure infinitely is exhilarating. I can’t wait to give them to her—we’ve already predicted tears all around!
Well, I must pause in my reflection to get ready to head out to Concord again today; the Old Manse, Emerson House, and Sleepy Hollow Cemetery are in the plans for today!
Travel Journal 5
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
1:43 p.m.
We’re sitting in Walden Grille in Concord, MA. Today has been busy—as we knew our time in Concord would be. We started the day at the Concord Museum, which was well worth the time and money. We learned a great deal about the town’s history, but even better—we saw Emerson’s study and Thoreau’s belongings!!!! It was so incredible to be so close to the very possessions of these men who contributed so much to American literature and philosophy. I actually teared up while walking around the Thoreau exhibit, looking at his name inscribed on his snowshoes and the worn edges of his desk. Literary nerd? Yes, and proud to be one.
1:43 p.m.
We’re sitting in Walden Grille in Concord, MA. Today has been busy—as we knew our time in Concord would be. We started the day at the Concord Museum, which was well worth the time and money. We learned a great deal about the town’s history, but even better—we saw Emerson’s study and Thoreau’s belongings!!!! It was so incredible to be so close to the very possessions of these men who contributed so much to American literature and philosophy. I actually teared up while walking around the Thoreau exhibit, looking at his name inscribed on his snowshoes and the worn edges of his desk. Literary nerd? Yes, and proud to be one.
Travel Journal 4
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
7:15 a.m.
Last night was really rough. I hardly slept at all, just coughed all night. I’m wrestling with the idea of staying at the hotel today and resting. I highly doubt I’ll be able to talk myself into it though.
Haley and I were talking last night about how we wished Dr. Thompson had come with us. I’ve been thinking of her with almost every step we take. She inspired this trip. If it weren’t for New England Writers, Harvin, Haley, and I wouldn’t be bffs, and we wouldn’t be in Massachusetts right now. She planted this love of American literature in me and I am so thankful for it.
This trip is an incredible gift and I’m so grateful for the perspective it is providing me—even in spite of my sickness. These memories will last a lifetime, these experiences will broaden my horizons, this history will make me grateful for those who came before me, and this exploration of new boundaries will be a teacher in the days to come.
7:15 a.m.
Last night was really rough. I hardly slept at all, just coughed all night. I’m wrestling with the idea of staying at the hotel today and resting. I highly doubt I’ll be able to talk myself into it though.
Haley and I were talking last night about how we wished Dr. Thompson had come with us. I’ve been thinking of her with almost every step we take. She inspired this trip. If it weren’t for New England Writers, Harvin, Haley, and I wouldn’t be bffs, and we wouldn’t be in Massachusetts right now. She planted this love of American literature in me and I am so thankful for it.
This trip is an incredible gift and I’m so grateful for the perspective it is providing me—even in spite of my sickness. These memories will last a lifetime, these experiences will broaden my horizons, this history will make me grateful for those who came before me, and this exploration of new boundaries will be a teacher in the days to come.
Travel Journal 3
Monday, August 3, 2009
6:00 p.m.
Whew! I’m exhausted. Yesterday’s tour of the HOSG was incredible. Walking through the house where Hawthorne was born and the house he visited that later became the basis for his novel was an indescribable experience. It’s amazing that these structures still stand as a link to history.
Today we walked all around Boston on the Freedom Trail. We saw sites including the Old North Church (where Paul Revere and company hung the lanterns signaling the arrival of British troops), the former location of the Old Corner Bookstore (where Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter was first published and which has been replaced by Borders—what would 19th century authors think of that?!), the graves of Paul Revere, Ben Franklin’s parents, John Hancock, Samuel Adams, and others; the Paul Revere house, the site of Poe’s home in Boston, the Holocaust Memorial, King’s Chapel—and the list goes on and on. There’s so much history in this city—the birthplace of our country. It’s fascinating.
I still feel pretty icky, but I’m trying to just trudge on and enjoy being here as much as I can. Tomorrow we’re headed to Cambridge, Emerson College (Harvin wants to check it out), and Longfellow’s house.
Song of the day: “Boston” by Augustana
Oh! I vowed that I wouldn’t leave New England without having a lobster roll, so I had one from Boston Chowda Co. for lunch at Quincy Market today. It was fabulous!
6:00 p.m.
Whew! I’m exhausted. Yesterday’s tour of the HOSG was incredible. Walking through the house where Hawthorne was born and the house he visited that later became the basis for his novel was an indescribable experience. It’s amazing that these structures still stand as a link to history.
Today we walked all around Boston on the Freedom Trail. We saw sites including the Old North Church (where Paul Revere and company hung the lanterns signaling the arrival of British troops), the former location of the Old Corner Bookstore (where Hawthorne’s The Scarlet Letter was first published and which has been replaced by Borders—what would 19th century authors think of that?!), the graves of Paul Revere, Ben Franklin’s parents, John Hancock, Samuel Adams, and others; the Paul Revere house, the site of Poe’s home in Boston, the Holocaust Memorial, King’s Chapel—and the list goes on and on. There’s so much history in this city—the birthplace of our country. It’s fascinating.
I still feel pretty icky, but I’m trying to just trudge on and enjoy being here as much as I can. Tomorrow we’re headed to Cambridge, Emerson College (Harvin wants to check it out), and Longfellow’s house.
Song of the day: “Boston” by Augustana
Oh! I vowed that I wouldn’t leave New England without having a lobster roll, so I had one from Boston Chowda Co. for lunch at Quincy Market today. It was fabulous!
Travel Journal 2
Sunday, August 2, 2009
11:49 a.m.
Our first official day in Massachusetts. We’re roaming about Salem today. We’ve toured the Salem Witch Museum—which was insightful and thought-provoking. We also wandered around Salem Common and had a swinging session. Swinging in Salem on Sunday—what a great, alliterated start to a beautiful day of discovery! Next, we’re headed to lunch then off to the House of Seven Gables, the Custom House, and the Derby Wharf lighthouse. *Listening to Bloc Party’s “Hunting for Witches”*
12:48 p.m.
Sitting in Engine House Pizza and Subs which claims to have the best pizza in Salem. We ordered the Fire Chief’s Special—and it’s pretty darn good. Even Bernard (Haley’s gnome) thinks so. J
I woke this morning feeling pretty good, but now I’m hitting the midday slump: my head is all stuffy and pounding, and my voice is waning. L Maybe HOSG and the Custom House will make me feel better?
5:15 p.m.
We climbed Clifford’s secret stairway in the HOSG! Actually, the staircase was added long after Hawthorne wrote HOSG in order to draw in more tourists, to make the house more like the one in Hawthorne’s’ novel. Still, it was fun to pretend to be Clifford for a moment—stealthily slinking betwixt the dining room and attic! Headed back to the hotel tonight, then going to see the new Harry Potter movie in IMAX 3D! Yippee!
11:49 a.m.
Our first official day in Massachusetts. We’re roaming about Salem today. We’ve toured the Salem Witch Museum—which was insightful and thought-provoking. We also wandered around Salem Common and had a swinging session. Swinging in Salem on Sunday—what a great, alliterated start to a beautiful day of discovery! Next, we’re headed to lunch then off to the House of Seven Gables, the Custom House, and the Derby Wharf lighthouse. *Listening to Bloc Party’s “Hunting for Witches”*
12:48 p.m.
Sitting in Engine House Pizza and Subs which claims to have the best pizza in Salem. We ordered the Fire Chief’s Special—and it’s pretty darn good. Even Bernard (Haley’s gnome) thinks so. J
I woke this morning feeling pretty good, but now I’m hitting the midday slump: my head is all stuffy and pounding, and my voice is waning. L Maybe HOSG and the Custom House will make me feel better?
5:15 p.m.
We climbed Clifford’s secret stairway in the HOSG! Actually, the staircase was added long after Hawthorne wrote HOSG in order to draw in more tourists, to make the house more like the one in Hawthorne’s’ novel. Still, it was fun to pretend to be Clifford for a moment—stealthily slinking betwixt the dining room and attic! Headed back to the hotel tonight, then going to see the new Harry Potter movie in IMAX 3D! Yippee!
Travel Journal 1
Saturday, August 1, 2009
7:30 a.m.
Waking up in Annapolis is a beautiful thing—even after a rough night. I think I only slept for about 3 hours. Ugh.
I woke up thinking about the verse in the Bible where it talks about God enlarging one’s borders. I feel like my borders are being expanded. God’s broadening my horizons so that I will eventually be confident enough in Him to go out into the wide, wide world. Truly, he’s already at work—a continuous process that I have really begun to recognize over the past three years.
9 a.m.
We’re on the road again—headed to Baltimore to see Poe’s grave!
10:15 a.m.
We’re in Baltimore! I still can’t believe we’re on our way to Boston. Leaving Poe’s grave—our first literary stop.
10:33 a.m.
Harvin’s driving, Haley’s reading Anne of the Island, and I’m sucking on cough drops. Since we’ll be in Salem tomorrow, my reading material for the day will be The House of the Seven Gables. Appropriate, yes?
11:50 a.m.
Got a text from Dr. Thompson. I wish she were with us. I just connected the name of the journal she gave me (Explore New Boundaries) with what I wrote this morning. Another affirmation from God that He is indeed at work. What an adventure!
(We’re in Delaware now.)
1:27 p.m.
We just stopped in Bellmawr, NJ for lunch on the run at Subway. People in this town are CRAZY. Lots of angry, cursing motorists are vying to get back on the turnpike. Lord, help.
And it’s official—I’ve entered the land of unsweet tea. Apparently, these northerners think green tea is an appropriate substitute. Uh, wrong; they’re just plain wrong.
2:47 p.m.
We hate New Jersey and its bloody turnpike. We’re currently stuck in ten miles of backed-up traffic. Ugh. In order to pass the time, Harvin and Haley are playing with the GPS’s settings. Instead of a car icon rolling along the road, we now have a colorful beach ball bouncing along the turnpike—and a British voice to add a bit of cultural flair. J
3:54 p.m.
Passing Newark airport (and IKEA)! Still hating New Jersey though we did finally get out of the traffic jam. I’m ready to leave this state behind and see New York. After seven hours on the road, I’m finally feeling a bit better. Hallelujah! HopefullyI’ll be able to sleep tonight and be ready to roll in the morning.
4:35 p.m.
We’re in New York—driving over the Hudson River on the George Washingotn Bridge, looking out at NYC.
5:23 p.m.
“Connecticut Welcomes You.” This state has some beautiful scenery. Hooray! We’re only one state away!
7:40 p.m.
We’ve crossed the Massachusetts state line!!! 64 mile to Boston! Stopping at Cracker Barrel for dinner (yes, southern food for our first meal in MA).
10:55 p.m.
Checked into our hotel...crashing now. Good night!
7:30 a.m.
Waking up in Annapolis is a beautiful thing—even after a rough night. I think I only slept for about 3 hours. Ugh.
I woke up thinking about the verse in the Bible where it talks about God enlarging one’s borders. I feel like my borders are being expanded. God’s broadening my horizons so that I will eventually be confident enough in Him to go out into the wide, wide world. Truly, he’s already at work—a continuous process that I have really begun to recognize over the past three years.
9 a.m.
We’re on the road again—headed to Baltimore to see Poe’s grave!
10:15 a.m.
We’re in Baltimore! I still can’t believe we’re on our way to Boston. Leaving Poe’s grave—our first literary stop.
10:33 a.m.
Harvin’s driving, Haley’s reading Anne of the Island, and I’m sucking on cough drops. Since we’ll be in Salem tomorrow, my reading material for the day will be The House of the Seven Gables. Appropriate, yes?
11:50 a.m.
Got a text from Dr. Thompson. I wish she were with us. I just connected the name of the journal she gave me (Explore New Boundaries) with what I wrote this morning. Another affirmation from God that He is indeed at work. What an adventure!
(We’re in Delaware now.)
1:27 p.m.
We just stopped in Bellmawr, NJ for lunch on the run at Subway. People in this town are CRAZY. Lots of angry, cursing motorists are vying to get back on the turnpike. Lord, help.
And it’s official—I’ve entered the land of unsweet tea. Apparently, these northerners think green tea is an appropriate substitute. Uh, wrong; they’re just plain wrong.
2:47 p.m.
We hate New Jersey and its bloody turnpike. We’re currently stuck in ten miles of backed-up traffic. Ugh. In order to pass the time, Harvin and Haley are playing with the GPS’s settings. Instead of a car icon rolling along the road, we now have a colorful beach ball bouncing along the turnpike—and a British voice to add a bit of cultural flair. J
3:54 p.m.
Passing Newark airport (and IKEA)! Still hating New Jersey though we did finally get out of the traffic jam. I’m ready to leave this state behind and see New York. After seven hours on the road, I’m finally feeling a bit better. Hallelujah! HopefullyI’ll be able to sleep tonight and be ready to roll in the morning.
4:35 p.m.
We’re in New York—driving over the Hudson River on the George Washingotn Bridge, looking out at NYC.
5:23 p.m.
“Connecticut Welcomes You.” This state has some beautiful scenery. Hooray! We’re only one state away!
7:40 p.m.
We’ve crossed the Massachusetts state line!!! 64 mile to Boston! Stopping at Cracker Barrel for dinner (yes, southern food for our first meal in MA).
10:55 p.m.
Checked into our hotel...crashing now. Good night!
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