Did any of that make sense?
We brought ice cream, and at some point, said sister-in-law of the killer punch switched to using ice cream instead of ice in the punch, and of course, I had to try it, so I ended up drinking three glasses instead of two. I was, if one was to be honest, slightly blitzed on the second glass so the third was a mistake. But I seem to have weathered the storm okay.
It was a nice memorial day weather wise. Hoppie and I spent our Sunday driving out to Blackstone, MA. Hoppie's parents said we should revive his great-grandparents tradition of sending ourselves postcards from each of the towns we visit by taking pictures of ourselves at the post office. I actually did some research and discovered that you can get postmarks from the individual post offices, but this works too.
Blackstone is a lovely town at the bottom of the state, on the MA/RI border. It had a pleasant classic small town feel to it. It was a nice day and people were out walked, riding bikes or scooters, and all basically headed to the soft serve ice cream stand in the center of town. Hoppie said he felt very at home. It was like West Brookfield was when he was growing up. How do we reclaim that innocence of small town America? Most of the time I don't think about it, but Memorial Day is a sort of throw-back to the days of honour when country was worth dying for, and worth living in. I don't want to glorify war and death or even idealism, which makes people do stupid, dangerous, and wrong things, but where is our sense of honour and integrity these days? Why do we have to lock our children inside our houses, and arrange schedule play, and live our lives from our homes and offices instead of in our communities?
Anyway, I suspect we'll be going back to Blackstone, because we didn't have a chance to see Blackstone Gorge, and I'd like to.