Our daughter and grandbabies drove up from North Carolina and spent the week with us and a multitude of cousins, aunts, uncles, and other assorted relatives and friends. We all stayed for several days at a lake house in Plymouth, Massachusetts, thanks to George’s sister, and his cousin, who kindly made the cottage available as a gathering place.
We did not do anything noteworthy to the outside world while we were there–we just visited. It’s exactly what we wanted to do. We did a lot of sitting around and talking while the kids played in the lake. We played in the lake some, too.
We did take a quick visit to the Cape (Cod that is) for fried clams. It was our first foray in our quest to find the best full-bellied fried claims in New England. They were not bad, but not great.
On our last morning, heading out of town, we had breakfast at a good old-fashioned diner. The roof leaked over my seat, with large, slow drips of water hitting me in various places throughout the meal. I finally had enough and changed seats when it dripped in my orange juice. The meal was delicious, with real scrambled eggs, burnt home fries, buttery corn bread heated on the grill, and Mickey Mouse pancakes for the kids.
We then brought the whole North Carolina contingent to Connecticut for more visits. My brother and sister-in-law were nice enough to put us up even though they were in the midst of a move. We were introduced to the horses at the farm …
And then they headed back to North Carolina. It was week packed with playing, eating, swimming, talking, drinking, driving (not together), and hardly a second to even think about blogging. The next week and a half will be much the same and then we will be slowing down again.