Boston, Massachusetts

View from the Hotel

Patriot George Washington Boston Public Garden
Make way for ducklings

Kings's Chapel
Old City Hall
Old State House
Oldest Tavern in America

Paul Revere's Place
Old Iron Sides
Harvard's impenetrable library
Jon studying at Harvard
House with Seven Gables
Streets of Marblehead
At the Seaside

Acorn Street

I pull quickly across two lanes of traffic to make the left hand turn – I should have paid more attention to the distance when I copied the directions down from map quest. It’s followed by another unexpected left, and there I am, pulling up in front of the Westin hotel. It’s tall and grand, with revolving doors. A man in a double breasted tunic with gold trim greets me with a smile, as I roll down the window.

“I’m here to meet my brother – he’s staying at your hotel – could you please tell me where to park.”

“It’s valet only.”

Valet only. Huh. Interesting. I take in the situation. I’m pulled up behind a lovely, shiny, black Lexus. I feel sweaty and gross, with wind-blown hair, from the air condition-less drive, and my belongings are packed in a wicker basket that’s sitting on the back seat. I’m feeling so conspicuous – I want to blink my eyes and turn my pumpkin self into something remarkable and grand.

He can probably tell just by looking at me, but I croak out, “I’ve never used valet parking before…?”

His name is Carl, and he’s very kind. He explains how the whole thing works. He doesn’t even bat an eyelid when I pull my non-luggage from the backseat (why can’t I just consistently use a rolley suitcase like everyone else?) I leave my keys in the ignition, he hands me a little card, and that’s it. No worries. For $40 a day, you can have several men drive your car in and out of some secret lot under the hotel.

I kind of liked it.

1988 was the best year of my life. Heidi and Howdie came to school and taught me all about the biathlon, bobsled, and nordic combined. I fell in love with the olympic spirit - one of friendship, unity, courage, determination, and talent.

This year's olympic experience has been tainted.

In July of 2001 China won the bid to host the olympics, the IOC said "a Beijing Games would leave a unique legacy to China and to sports. The Commission is confident that Beijing could organise an excellent Games".

I understand the reasons behind the protests. But couldn't it have all gone down seven years ago? Is it just the conveniece of a torch running by that makes blood boil into action? Because, China and tibet have been having problems for quite some time. Since 1959 China has been illegally exercising soverignity over its neighbour. I'm not trying to obviate Tibet's independence - but could we please get on with the olympics and all that it stands for.

I want to fill my whole life with beautiful things.

Also in Palmyra...

A lovely graveyard nestled alongside the road.

I enjoy little detours -

running from car to site, and back again

I went to Palmyra this weekend. And the best part was that it didn't make an ounce of difference. I expected to feel something great and magnificent - but my heart felt all that a long time ago. I already knew it was true.


















The Smith family farm. A tiny log cabin on 100 acres. The site of the restoration.





Crocuses pushing through the ground, in the Sacred Grove

Palmyra Temple, built in the Smith's backyard