Boston-- the beginning

When I started writing this up in earnest, it seemed to grow and grow, so I decided to break it up.

When I started talking about going to Boston to meet Hobblings, Candycanegirl said, in typical adolescent confrontational style, “Why can’t I go?” “Who said you couldn’t?” I answered in typical parental defensive style. So it was decided that she would go.
I asked her several times if she was sure she wanted to go, and each time she assured me that she did. I asked her the night before if she really wanted me to wake her up to go in the morning, and asked her again if she was sure before we got in the car. She declared that she did, and that she was getting annoyed at having to answer me over and over. Those of you who met her that day will understand why I kept asking her. How was I to know that being quiet and looking sullen meant she wanted to be there?

I think every Hobbling who has mentioned Candycanegirl in Boston has said that she acted as though she were too cool to be around them. That is her natural state of being. She is too cool to be picked up at school by her dad, and waaay too cool to be seen in the mall with me. So you should be honored that you were treated like family.

We drove into Belmont, a Boston suburb, to take the T (subway) into Boston. At the Alewife stop in Belmont, parking is $5 a day; it can be $30 in Boston. I love the drive in to Boston on Route 2. Actually, it’s not the whole drive (the traffic jams at the Concord rotary in front of the prison is not fun), but I love the spot just outside of Belmont where you crest a hill and see the Boston skyline for the first time. I will admit that it is not as spectacular as the New York skyline, but it is still a beautiful sight. If you think that humans moving their sprawl upward into the heavens is beautiful, which I apparently do. My daughter refused to take a picture of it for me and I was unable take one while driving, or I would be able to show you what I mean.

We were at our appointed T stop about 10 minutes early. I didn’t see anyone I recognized, so we walked down the block for something to do while perhaps running into them. Unsuccessful in finding anyone away from the designated meeting spot, I thought I’d be reckless and go back to where I was supposed to be. As we walked down Boston Common, I saw two women in the distance who appeared to be kickboxing. “They must be Hobblings,” I thought. And I was right. I don’t believe QuOS was really trying to take Emma down, or Daisy, Biped and Skits wouldn’t have been looking on so genially. (Although from what I learned about Skits this trip, maybe she would have been… but I digress.) Someone called to Keppet who had walked off in the other direction, looking for me I suspect, and she returned to our little group (which also included a friend of Keppet’s, but as she wasn’t a Hobbling I had no prior expectations of her whatsoever—except that she must be awfully brave to travel with this troupe) . Miraba joined us, and we were off.

At this point, no one had contradicted any of my expectations. Except that I was surprised to hear Miraba say that her name was “MIRA-ba” instead of “Mere-A-ba.” Everyone was friendly, Q and KTF’s fight to the death notwithstanding. Biped gamely tried to converse with me, completely unaware that I am not good talking in situations like this. I mean, I “knew” her, but had never met her, so that I was mostly giving short answers that didn’t help to progress the cnversation much. Plus, the street noise was loud. You were plucky to continue trying, Biped. At some point someone put a cell phone to my ear to talk to Fedwren, but the street noise was even worse for phone conversation. Furthermore, I was distracted by QuOS chasing squirrels.