We started our slow trek back home this morning with a ferry-boat ride back to reality, but I’ll get to that in a minute because there was a whole day’s worth of activities before we even stepped on the boat.
First: packing. Always the suckiest part of vacation because it is not only a chore, but it’s a chore that signifies the end. I pack up the same way I clean up: from the back of the house, forward. When I clean, I gather things and move them to other rooms, thereby always leaving a room spotless when I am done with it, even if I haven’t properly dealt with the things I moved. E.g. I will take a dirty mug and a piece of trash from the living room and move it to the kitchen counter to be dealt with when I reach the kitchen. I like to turn chaos into order and the feeling of leaving a whole room “done” is what motivates me. Packing is no different, so I started in the back bathroom, collecting all our stuff and moving it to my bed. Then folding up the stuff on my bed and moving it out to the living room, etc. It’s perhaps not the most efficient way to pack, but it gets the job done in a way I don’t loathe.
The plan, once I finished packing my stuff, was to take The Who into town for the dual purpose of allowing m* focused time to pack the rest of our stuff into the car and to procure The Who’s morning chocolate milk because we were all out of milk at the house. We found this place in town during the week that makes perfect chocolate milk — just like The Who likes it. Light and warm. They used slightly steamed milk and a squirt of their homemade chocolate sauce and made it all right into The Who’s sippy cup. Perfection. Plus, they happened to have the best breakfast sandwich in all of P-town, so it was a total win-win.
Then, as we meandered toward the wharf, we were charmed by the face painter and The Who and I sat for a spell. He initially chose a full-face Spiderman face, but I gently dissuaded him because he’s an eye-rubber (especially with allergies and especially as we were about to get on a windy, sunny ferry ride.) So, he settled on a doggie on his cheek, which he happily wore all day until bath time.
M* met us in town with the car (and our overnighter backpack) and took us down to the end of the wharf, where we were at the very front of the line for the ferry — and good thing, too, because you have to be among the first to procure the prize seats (outside, second-floor deck, facing forward), which is where we stayed planted until the last 15 minutes of the ride.
We arrived in Boston sweaty and salty and sticky and glad to be picked up by Grandma in the air conditioned car. Tonight we’re spending one last night here and then it’s on the road tomorrow morning to hopefully have a much shorter drive home than poor m*, who suffered today on her drive with pouring rain and traffic. We have our fingers crossed.
Back to the daily grind Tuesday. Grocery shopping, meal planning, and laundry await. And, believe it or not, I’ll be happy to get back to it.