Copley Square, then and now

The first time I ventured out alone in Boston, I went to the Boston Public Library to get a library card. I accidentally got on the green line going the wrong way, and so by the time I arrived, the library had just closed. I stood on the steps, bundled up in my new winter coat, and took a photo of Copley at night with the Christmas tree twinkling white and blue. I didn't know much about Boston and didn't know anyone aside from Ian and two friends from home, but in that moment I was so content in our new city.

Almost a year later, Boston has become home. The shift was imperceptible, but I knew it had happened when I went to the library after work. I sat in the window overlooking the courtyard as I talked to my parents on the phone.

By the time I left, it was dark. I paused on the steps and looked across Copley, arrested by the old library lanterns in contrast to the glittering Hancock Tower.

That past moment, uncertain but full of hope, suddenly was juxtaposed to the present, fulfilled. I am confident. I know how to get around. I can give directions to tourists and provide recommendations for things like chowder and cannoli. I have a job that I do very well. We have favorite restaurants. We know our neighbors. We love our church. We have friends we can count on. And I have a library card.

IKEA, Goodwill and French pastries

Last Saturday's to-do list?

• make the semi- quasi-quarterly IKEA run
• drop off piles of stuff at Goodwill
• sell old books to Booksmith
• assemble IKEA bookshelf and storage boxes
• enjoy a French date night

I'd been adding to our IKEA list all summer. It was time. We woke up early, hopped in a ZipCar and headed down to Stoughton.



I'm fascinated by IKEA's aura as a day trip destination. Drop off kids (if you have 'em) at the fun free daycare. Wander around in the endless pristine, organized showroom. Check out a This Old House kitchen seminar (by the way, I grew up watching that show on Saturday mornings). Share a romantic Swedish meatball lunch. Welcome to married life.

And not only does a good husband take his wife on IKEA dates, he also turns the car around and drives the wrong way through the parking lot so his wife can take photos of a sweet old truck for her photo a day project. (I love you, Ian!)




When you have a ZipCar on a Saturday, you really have to take advantage of it. We unloaded our purchases at home then reloaded the car with the Goodwill piles we'd accumulated and a basket of books to sell. A quick drive, and we had shed unneeded items discovered as we work through simplifying/curating the apartment. It felt good.

We then turned our attention back to our newly purchased storage solutions, which streamlined our living room. More about that in a later post.

That evening, Ian whisked me away to Paris for crepes before our movie, Kings of Pastry, at the Coolidge. It was a delicious evening, and the movie was fantastic. If you have the chance to see this, don't pass it up. The quote that sold Ian was "I never saw so many stong men sobbing at once." Who knew sugar could bring grown men to their knees?

All in all, a very successful errand-slash-date day. I love my husband. The end.

John + Erin fall into Boston

Two weekends ago (October is flying by) we had the pleasure of hosting our friends John and Erin. It was a quick trip but we made the most of a beautiful Saturday, which included a couple hours at the old farmhouse we house-sat back in August, and finished with Sweet cupcakes (their caramel apple is fall in a paper wrapper).

John and Erin — see you again soon!

Nantucket and the wild waves

After a momentous week of homemade dinners and improved vision, Micki took us to Nantucket to break in her new eyeball on the island.

And I really can't go on without saying thanks to the Boston Foundation for Sight. After three bouts of cancer which caused a herpes infection in one eye leading to two cornea transplants, they (and her surgeon) have taken Micki's eye from virtually blind to 20/25. Miracles happen every day with those doctors and their groundbreaking contact, and we got to hear all the stories. They are truly a blessing.

After Micki's final appointment on Friday, we drove a rental car down to Hyannis to catch the Nantucket Ferry. Before sailing out, we had dinner at The British Beer Company, where I experienced my first pasty. Not bad. When we get to Britain, I'll let you know how authentic it was. We were disappointed we missed Funktapus Thursdays — the chalk drawing of an octopus with a fro was enticing, but we still enjoyed some great live music.

A smooth hour-long ferry ride and Red Sox win over the Yankees later, we were walking along the cobblestone streets of Nantucket on our way to the Veranda House.

The Captain's Loft suite was lovely, and the little touches — Twizzlers with a welcome note, luxurious bamboo bath products, and tote ready for a beach day — made it memorable.

We dropped off our bags then headed out into the fog for a little exploration before bedtime. We found a beautiful and simple church, an eclectic bookstore, and a vibrant Latin kitchen.

The next morning, we went down to the veranda for potentially the best breakfast I've ever had. It started with tiny cornbread muffins and 5 spread choices (chive butter! raspberry butter!), moved on to a shot of peach smoothie and side of melon, and finished with mini banana crepes drizzled in raspberry sauce. Perfect flavor, perfect portions.

Refreshed, we strolled down to Brant Point and the second oldest lighthouse in America (after Boston Light).

The view from the top was spectacular, and the coast guard people were so nice.

We then headed back downtown and bumped into a farmers market as we did a little shopping. I think it's the first time I'd ever seen a spread of locally grown mushrooms.

After a quick lunch at a cute cafe, we hopped into a cab and headed to Cisco Beach, learning more about Nantucket along the way. Our driver was a "wash-ashore," which means she's been there 20 years and has a family, but she'll never be a native since she wasn't born there.

Cisco Beach was wild and remote — expensive yet unassuming beach cottages empty of their summer owners, stretches of sand only occupied by large seashells, icy waves breaking 100 yards from shore. I felt like Hattie and the Wild Waves. It was one of those moments I know I'll remember for the rest of my life.

Salt encrusted, we called a cab and headed back to pick up a few souvenirs and enjoy a little more time on the veranda before picking up our bags.

Nantucket was inspiring, and we're embracing the New England aesthetic. Our bags were a little heavier with sand and seashells carefully tucked away, which are now adding a touch of the island to our living room.

Thanks to Micki for giving us a break by being mom for two weeks, and for treating us to such an incredible experience!

For more photos, click here.

handmade + vintage + local = the SoWa Open Market

After our foiled attempt to visit the SoWa Open Market the day before, Micki and I tried again Sunday after Reunion. Ian, hankering for a nap since he lead music for both gatherings, headed home while we walked to Copley to catch the 9 bus. I would later regret his decision.

Micki and I checked the schedule and hopped on a bus with no problem. I wrote down the stop indicated on SoWa's web site, so we settled in and paid attention. But when the bus crossed under the MassPike I started to get worried. Several stops into Southie, and I knew we'd missed something. I talked to the driver, who informed us there was no "Albany and East Berkley" stop and suggested we ride the loop until we passed near that intersection. Getting lost on the T when going to new places sans Ian seems to be a trend. We hoped we would at least come out with a good Matt Damon story, but alas, no luck.

As we crossed under MassPike again I saw white tents, so we hopped out and quickly found the market. With a little under an hour before close (4 p.m.), we got right to shopping.

We had so much fun wandering through all the crafty stalls as well as the antiques/vintage indoor area. I came home with a couple flower hairpins and a handmade reusable drink sleeve just in time for fall. On our way home from the market, we made sure to hit a coffee shop so I could test out my new purchase.

SoWa is open through the end of October, and I'm bringing Ian for another trip. I have my eye on a necklace to match my new hairpins... (Don't worry Ian, there's manly designer stuff too.)

Not in the Boston area? Click the photo to get to the Flickr page containing the seller's link in the description.

adventures in Salem, MA (*cat and broom not included)

Two Saturdays ago we were going to shop the SoWa Open Market then spend the afternoon in Newburyport. Until we found out the market is only open Sundays and our ZipCar wasn't in its spot because we made the reservation for the NEXT Saturday.

So there we were, standing in the parking lot with a book bag full of snacks, when I remembered Dan and Kristin said Salem was lots of fun and only 30 minutes away on the commuter rail. We meandered through Pod and Starbucks on our way to catch a cab to Long Wharf for the Salem Ferry.

After a lovely hour-long ride on the open seas, we were walking up to the House of Seven Gables — the home that inspired Nathaniel Hawthorne's book of the same name.

Our tour guide was new — a former elementary school teacher who retired instead of accepting a new position teaching middle school. He was very thankful we weren't middle school students who, he insisted, would eat him up like piranhas. This sentence, repeated often, was accompanied by a hand gesture to illustrate the gnawing on his arm. He also reminded us multiple times throughout the tour we could go to high tea the next day for a hundred dollars a head.

He was sweet in spite of his quirks, and I'm sure he'll get better (and faster) with practice. He did a good job of highlighting the affluence of the homeowners (always in comparison to Hillary Clinton, Martha Stewart and Oprah). And we got to climb up the secret stairway behind the fireplace. I want one.

After the tour, we spent a little time wandering the grounds and Nathaniel Hawthorne's childhood home.

A short walk along the Salem Heritage Trail brought us to Salem Commons, where Ian promptly took photos of the view along every path radiating from the entrance.

We also bumped into a National Puppy Mills Awareness Day event. The sign seemed a bit too perky considering their cause...

We arrived at the Peabody Essex Museum at closing time (we will be going back for this), so we explored the small shopping district nearby.

Salem really plays up its history, but it's not all brooms and twitching noses — there are lots of occultic shops. I don't think I've ever been in a place that felt so heavy. Whether or not the women in the witch trials were dabbling in dark magic, that history seems to have created what they originally attempted to eradicate.

On a lighter note, the rest of our evening in Salem contained a lot of humor. After a fruitless attempt at finding a restaurant (two promising options were packed for special events), we settled on The Upper Crust.

As we waited for our (tasty!) pizza, a guy stumbled in with his bike and asked Ian if it was okay to use the restroom. Ian directed him to ask the employees. After he finished, he walked his bike out the door, hopped on, wobbled straight into a granite curb and wiped out. The waitress was unconcerned — "He followed me here, and I think he's been *bottle motion*. He's creepy."

After dinner, we stopped by Ben and Jerry's for dessert. Cups of coconut seven layer bar ice cream in hand, we walked straight into an almost fight in the Boston Hot Dog Company's parking lot. A belligerent drunk guy was yelling at a man who quickly hopped into a minivan. As the vehicle drove off, the belligerent drunk hollered, "Take that hot dog and shove it up your %#@!" Very pleasant.

We quickly made our way to the train station to avoid any further drama, and an hour later we were home sweet home. Adventure accomplished.

For more photos, click here.