Yes, please

At first I dragged my feet. Maddy had a photo assignment and wanted to go into Boston to do some shots.  It kind of seemed like a hassle to me but G and Sam had a church meeting and she really wanted to go, so I thought eh, why not?

I should think why not? more often. Well, that and why not's more enthusiastic sister, yes, please.

Because if I had gone with my Saturday afternoon homebody instincts, I would have missed out on this:

Swan boats retired for the summer.

Maddy in sunbeams.

Witnessing weddings.

Glorious trees.

High wire walkers practicing. (!)

Take that, dragging feet. 

From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Isabella Stewart Gardner

Ever since I read From the Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E Frankweiler as a youngster I have had a longing to live in a museum, haven't you? If I had my druthers, I would camp out in the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, one of my happy places in Boston. It's just a block or so from the MFA but goes undiscovered by many. If you're in the area, go!

Maddy and I went there yesterday for Maddy Day 2 (and were delighted to find we both qualify to get in free!). We dressed in skirts and pretended we were fancy Boston ladies. Back in the turn of the 20th century Mrs. Gardner built a gorgeous Italian palazzo, with a courtyard at the center, to house her growing art collection.

This courtyard lifts many a Boston wintry heart, let me tell you.

Some of our favorite pieces:

^Mrs. Gardner herself. Bursting with enthusiasm, isn't she?

Here I am!

^Young Lady of Fashion

Maddy's counterpart of Renaissance Italy.

^El Jaleo by John Singer Sargent. Again with the verve and enthusiasm.

She looks like she could give me a lesson in not-caring-what-others-think.

I adore Vermeer.

Unfortunately, this one was stolen in a very famous art heist

(at least around here)

so we didn't see it at the Gardner.

But we did see the blank spot where it used to be.

Very mysterious.

I imagine the museum security is pretty heightened,

making my plans to inhabit the place a little far-fetched.

So I am forced to fall back on my other Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum dream:

wedding reception for a daughter/son/grandchild someday.

A gal can dream...

Bostony weekend

In New England, we seem to wait all winter lonnnng (all 6.5 months of it) for a lovely, blooming weekend like the one we just had.  Now that the dreary grey and brown landscape has perked up again, I can fall a bit in love with New England again.  Blue skies (full disclosure: with a little showers in the morning). Sunny. Light breezes.  As luck would have it, when that particular kind of Saturday rolled around we had some great reasons to be out and about enjoying it.

March of Dimes walk in the morning along the Charles.

Red Sox game in the afternoon.

Holy Boston baked beans! Now I remember why we like it here...

Now if only the Sox had won that game... 14-5 isn't pretty (you can see Sam's dismay in one of the photos). Eh...you can't have everything.  And I think New Englanders secretly enjoy having something to gripe about. It brings us all together in misery:)

Adele and me

For our anniversary gifts to each other in February, G and I went through the schedules for events this year in Boston and chose a handful that we would enjoy together. (What a treat. I think we'll do it every year...it's the gift that keeps on giving! Plus it makes me feel zesty to be out on the town with my guy.)

One of the ones we (read=me. I influenced this decision.) chose was Adele, Saturday May 2nd at the Orpheum. Oh, I love me some Adele. As the night drew closer we started realizing we had a problem. Both of our babysitter daughters had commitments that couldn't be changed and Sam's too young to stay home alone. But we had a plan B. 

Which fizzled. 

And a plan C--that on Saturday became impossible.  G kindly offered to send me with a friend (the Celtics game 7 that night might have had something to do with his generosity) and I tried a few but it was a beautiful spring Saturday in May!  Everyone already had plans & it was too last minute.  Even when we offered both tickets to anyone who could go that night, no one nibbled.

I was so sad.

An hour before the concert started, I sat down to listen to the cd and have a little pity party. The boys were camped in front of the tv with the Celtics.

I listened to about 30 seconds (and had a Facebook conversation with Jen) and decided to just go.  By myself (gasp!).

I've done movies by myself without blinking. Traveled solo a bit.  I'm generally kind of a happy-go-lucky-by-myself kind of person.  Solo concert-going felt kind of...lonelyish. 

But.

Oh. My. 

It was so worth it. She is one of those artists who is incredible live.

So talented.  And heartfelt, emotional. And young (she turns 21 this week).

I had chills. And (I'll admit) some inspiration tears.

So I've been a bit obsessed* since, humming & playing her music.

And I found footage of the Orpheum concert so you can come with me (virtually):

This is a sneak preview of a song on her next album:

And my favorite (already posted here; I'm redundant), a cover of the Bob Dylan song:

Also good:
Best for Last
Right as Rain

I was so glad I went.
But sorry not to share it with someone.

{Until now!}

* also? I'm kind of embarrassed to admit this: Afterwards I waited a long time in line for the ladies' room.  When I came out of the theater there was Adele!  Getting into her bus!  What did I do?  Walk coolly away? No.  Take a picture? No camera.  No, I ran over and asked for her autograph and she signed my (two) tickets. I'm sure when I walked away she thought what's with the loser soccer mom who came alone? And I was thinking what am I going to do with two scraps of paper with a sharpie scrawl on them?  What can I say? I was dazzled.

The Fenway night was everything it promised to be
(& I went crazy with the camera):

clear pre-summer night

rowdy colorful fans

great seats
(thanks, boss of G)

{sorry...blurry}

eating peanuts and Fenway franks

good baseball (we won + I got to be close to Mike Lowell.
Hi Mike! {whisper} call me!)
I'm a fan
can you tell?

Sometimes it felt like a movie (Feverpitch, anyone?) especially when suddenly there was a commotion in right field. A big, burly (but fastmoving--and in boots!) fan broke from the stands and ran across the fields, chased by several equally burly security guards. He jumped into the crowd just down from us + was tackled and taken away to rowdy applause. Hilarious. I managed to get a tiny bit of it on my little point-and-shoot camera:

Good times, good times.