As if we weren't intelligent enough from studying all that 18th-century American history yesterday, today we planned a jaunt over to Cambridge, to take in the Harvard Square scene. Like seasoned Bostonians, we managed the Red Line perfectly, then began walking (again with the walking) up and down the picturesque, busy streets radiating out from the T stop. It's an interesting, eclectic place--where easily-recognized national chain stores and restaurants mingle with funky independent shops and cafes. The mix of people is just as diverse; you can spot students (backpacks being the dead giveaway), natives (dressed for work, striding purposefully toward their offices), and tourists of all kinds (speaking in a wide variety of languages). We wandered in to the Harvard Co-op (so Riley could peruse souvenirs, naturally) or as I prefer to call it now: Heaven. Imagine a 3-level bookstore with a wrought-iron spiral staircase curving up the middle, so all you can see from floor to ceiling is BOOKS. I could have been content to stay there for days. We did eventually escape, but not until Derek (my little nerdling) had chosen a book to read on the drive home tomorrow. Then, seeking lunch, we encountered a cool little burrito joint where all the ingredients are Fair Trade and organic; the meat contains no hormones or antibiotics; and instead of trash bins, you sort garbage into "compost" or "recycle". (Even the "plastic" cups we drank our water out of were made entirely from plants!) AND I could choose grilled spiced tofu for my burrito bowl: totally my kind of eatery (Yes, the food was delish too). From there, we strode over to Harvard University itself, to admire the ivy-covered halls of learning. Crossing the Charles River on the JFK Bridge, we peered over the edge to watch a rower getting what looked like quite a workout, then meandered onto campus. I swear, the place even feels smart; I guess after 350 years of educating the best and brightest, it can't help but exude a certain...brainiac ambience. (One can only hope it's infectious, right?) But now, having worn out our legs once more, we needed to touch Home Base to rest up for the evening's festivities.
In fact, the crowning moment for our entire trip, the event that determined the timing for the whole week's travel, was set to take place at 7:10 p.m. at Fenway Park, when the Red Sox would take on the Kansas City Royals. I purchased the tickets the first day they went on sale in February, since I know the Bosox have sold out every home game since...the dawn of time. So I sat on my bed in pjs and fuzzy slippers, a cup of coffee in hand, and waited in a warm, cozy Virtual Line until I reached the imaginary Ticket Window. It turned out that a Monday night game against the non-rival KC team offered the best seats for 4 people who actually wanted to sit together in a row. But we were pretty stoked anyway, since the kids had never been to Fenway at all, and we scored bleacher seats, where Husband and I had never sat before. So excitement ran high as we prepared to leave for the game...right up until we saw the rain tumbling from the sky. Really? Now? After a week of weather so hot and dry that, if Hades boasted a baseball team, they would have felt perfectly at home? It brought back vivid memories for us of last summer, when the exact same thing happened as we attempted to catch a Phillies game. Derek accurately expressed the exasperation of the group when he said, "Revolutionary War and baseball just do not go together for us!" He's right--we visit a city saturated with fascinating history and we soak it all in...then it storms during the time we're supposed to be watching the game. However, we were undaunted as we optimistically donned more clothing and made our way to the T. It must be true that "hope springs eternal", since we joined a throng of other Sox enthusiasts in red caps and jerseys packing the train towards Fenway. As we entered the ballpark, the poncho-wearing ticket taker unnecessarily queried, "You know they're in a Rain Delay, right?" Um, you think? Yeah, we're damp, and shivering, and completely aware of the situation, thanks! Once inside, the trusty souvenir shop kept us--and hundreds of our closest Fan Friends--dry for a while. Then we braved the drops to shuffle our way through the stadium and take some soggy pictures while rubbing elbows with...loads of Sox-supporting humanity. Everyone seemed to be in a great mood, but maybe that's due more to the proximity of the Beer Stands than anything else. We made a point of visiting our seats (not sitting in the puddles on them, mind you) to appreciate the view: directly across from Home Plate in straightaway Center Field...it would have been an awesome perspective. But when 8:15 came and went, and there was no letup in the precipitation, we made a Family Decision to surrender. Husband and I are veterans of many, many baseball games and more than a few Rain Delays, so we knew that even if the shower abruptly stopped at that specific moment, it would take significant extra time to roll up the tarp and whip the field into playing shape before they could even throw the first pitch. Sigh. Yet another baseball game thwarted by fickle summer weather. (That's it, next time before leaving Maryland we make sacrifices to Mother Nature AND the Baseball Gods! That should do it...)
When we returned to the hotel, we found out that the game had eventually gotten underway...after a 2-hour and 21-minute delay. No, thanks. Then this morning, when I checked the final scores, I discovered that the Royals had won the contest...in 14 innings! Oy. We would have had to spend the night there, had we not bailed. We'll just need to give Fenway another shot in the future...and I think it might be time to go home, anyway, as the following conversations occurred yesterday: Riley: "Moo--ooom, Derek is trying to pillage and plunder me!" (Um...quit it? Yes, it's clear that the boys have just about used up their tolerance for 24-7 togetherness, I'd say); and Derek: (snuggling up to me on the way to the T) "Mom, as much as I liked Niagara Falls, Cooperstown, and Boston, I like Home the best." Okay, Team WestEnders, the majority has spoken, so today I declare Back to Olney Day. Ready, set, go (437 miles, we can do this)!
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