I admit that the title of this post is not lovely, but darnit if it's not funny. I could have started off with impressionistic photos of lighthouses, but didn't want to lull my few, kind readers into complacency: believe it or not, I don't spend every minute of my life lolling in the grass wearing a poofy dress, sipping champagne (although I do that as much as possible).
Pete and I were determined to make the most of this last "summer" weekend. Labor Day imparts so much pressure to get in all the summer stuff you didn't have time for in June, July, or much of August. Last week we had our Esplanade picnic, this week we went to a satifying summer blockbuster, went down town to wander the harbor and North End, ate lots and lots of seafood, and finally venuted to Boston's Harbor Islands. Spectacle and George's Islands to be exact.
I'll spare you a sunny rambling summary of tall grasses waving in the breeze, miles of trails, beautiful views, and the soft clanging of buoys in the distance and just say this: George's Island has an awesome fort, and I love me a good fort.
I wish we had had more time at Fort Warren because you can almost literally go anywhere in the fort. There is nothing roped off so you can head your stupid self down tiny, twisty staircases, down dark endless stone halls, and stand precariously close to very far drops. Thrilling!
All this exploring and history learning makes a girl hungry. At first we had planned to head home to cook up some fish to stick with our nautical theme, but then realized upon setting foot on shore, that we were so close to...
I will not go in to detail besides to list everything we ate/drank:
Dark 'n' Stormy(s), Jonah Crab Claws, fried oyster po' boy, lobster roll, key lime pie.
Take that Labor Day! We kicked your summer-killing bum!