New pool!

So, earlier posts tipped off that my parents have overturned some of their glorious backyard so that they could install an above-ground swimming pool. Timing and bouts of heavy rain earlier this late spring delayed the installation process, so the new pool was not officially open until the end of July.

But we wasted almost no time in literally and figuratively diving in! Our family's first foray was on Monday, July 31st, the first day of my summer week off. I had taken a bunch of 3- and 4-day weekends earlier this summer, but having a nice long stretch of time off was also needed and restorative. 

And here we all are! From left to right: Goose next to the inflatable swan, our niece/cousin S behind it, and Moose on top of it. Then, Mouse on the ladder, Becky holding Grouse, and Your Residence Doofus (me) pretending to launch himself head-first into a four-foot-high pool of water. It was a beautiful mid-morning when we arrived for our day-long swim. The pool was shaded from much of the morning sun, but beginning around 11:30 and lasting until about 3:30, the sun beat directly on this backyard luxury, and at times it was too hot for all of us to be in for long. But we had an awesome time. 

Sadly, that inflatable swan's run of good times ended shortly after our inaugural visit. Someone (not naming names) got too rambunctious climbing on and off it, and one of the swan's inflatable wings got clipped. De-winged, the swan was a whole lot less fun. Last I knew, it was taking in the view from the wooden, second-story deck -- from which my dad snapped the above photo. 

And my nostalgia-loving heart was still mighty content to see that a lot of my childhood backyard was intact. There remains plenty of room for my parents' grandkids to run around and have fun. 

We visited my parents' house a bunch in August. On my last visit, on Saturday the 26th, the pool was pretty darn chilly in the late afternoon. My mom (Nana to our kids) noted that, this late in the season, you really can't get in it until after lunchtime. This summer has been unseasonably cool and less humid than any summer I can remember in my adult life. I'm not at all complaining! I've loved a milder, more comfortable summer weather pattern. But like anything, it has its drawbacks, and pool-time is one of those things that would benefit from a more normal, hazy-hot-and-humid summer.

There's always next year! We're going to the pool one more time this Labor Day weekend before it's closed up for the fall and winter.    

Uncle Matt's Visit

Every other year, Becky's youngest brother Matt has a work conference in the summer in Boston. He kindly took some extra time before the conference started to fly to Boston for the weekend and spend it with us. We wanted to show him some of the Beantown sights, but Matt was really just interested in catching up with our family and doing whatever we all thought would be fun.

So, we broke out our family canoe for its annual paddle on the Mighty Charles River! It's not big enough to fit all six of us, so we always split up - one of us Wilson Warrior parents with two of our four kids paddle from one dock to another, then we switch parent and children for the return voyage. But with an extra adult on-hand, Matt joined in the fun on both ends of the excursion!

Seconds after arriving at Casa TimBeck6, our small traveling zoo bombards their Uncle Matt

Uncle Matt played games with our kids...

treated us all to ice cream...

...and posed with each of our kiddos! 

So great to have family in-town, even just for 48 hours!

Moose's Cast, Part 2

As a follow-up to the earlier post about when Our Mighty Moose broke his wrist, here are photos of the post-fractured kid and his casts. Summer was not at all a bust for him. For example, despite signs at the Story Land amusement park in New Hampshire that kids with casts could not go on most rides, not one ride attendant pulled him out of line or said anything to me. 

Wait ... that's not exactly a ringing endorsement of ride attendants, is it?

Moose soldiered on. He was able to swim, ride his bike, color, build with LEGOs, play Star Wars with me and his brother, and catching Frisbees and baseballs with his left hand. I posted the photos in reverse chronological order - the red cast was his last cast, while the bulky green cast that went all the way up to his right armpit was Moose's first cast. He wore each one for two weeks, and there was a blue cast in-between the first green and the last red. We kept each smelly cast for a while after the doctors removed it as a putrid memento before ditching them! 

Camping with Friends

Earlier this month, Becky and I packed up our four kids, coolers, tents, sleeping bags, and an unseemly amount of other camping logistics "needs" and "wants" for a two-night camping outing with some great friends. 

In our freewheeling sans-kids lives, starting on the July 4th weekend in 2004, Becky and me and our friends Marcello, Hugh, and Alyson dubbed ourselves "The Fab Five." As fiances (and then spouses) entered the circle, we rechristened the group's name to "The Fabbers." We have had so much fun as a tight band of friends ever since. It's a different kind of fun now that kids are on the scene. "Fabbers: The Next Generation" is already upon us. Where did the time go?

Becky and her best friend Alyson

Grouse loved wearing a headband flashlight. All of the kids did, actually.

I love this photo, above: Grouse's face is hysterical, and I look about five-10 years younger than I am! The wonders of technology.

The weather was beautiful but pretty chilly on the beach on Sunday morning. I took the kids on an outing while the adults broke camp, prepared breakfast, and got ready for a camp-side spiritual testimony meeting. This was simply a wonderful camp-out. I could have stayed at this shady beach all morning, but I love being around the smoky smells of a campfire, too. We are looking forward to future camp-outs with this great group of friends, and for our kids to have times together with the next generation of Fabbers!

New Milestone (and Not on This Blog)

My 1998 Mazda 626 hit 150,000 miles this month! From time-to-time over the last few years, I've toyed with the idea of trading it in for a newer set of wheels. I've been convinced in my own mind that the annual rite of dropping at least $1,500 on repairs is not worth it, only to have our trusty (and oft-seen) mechanic assure me that the amount put in is keeping this car going and could get me several more years of life out of this nearly 20-year-old car. 

So I've kept it, despite its ugly appearance (missing hubcaps, a bad paint job on the hood that has resulted in the paint chipping and flaking off for years). It has manual locks and manual windows. But it excels in its most important function: getting me to and from work, and around town, and to church. This car has never left the Northeast, going only as far west as New York State a few times. It's a total commuter car, and as such I don't need a newer one to come on the scene just yet. 

My goal in 2017, the 15th year of me owning this vehicle, was to get this car to 150,000 miles. Mission accomplished! Now I want to keep it alive through all of 2018, its twentieth birthday. Beyond that, the obvious mile-markers are 175,000 and then 200,000 miles, owning it for twenty years in 2022, and having it live to see twenty-fifth birthday in 2023! If it lasts that long, then our oldest children - the Goose and the Mouse - could use it to practice driving and prep for driver's ed!

Here's to more miles and smiles!

Look-Alike?

Most people startle me when they comment, "Moose looks just like you!" Moose is our blond-haired, blue-eyed son, our 6-year-old, who looks just like Becky to me. I struggle to see how Goose (our oldest) and Grouse (our youngest) bear resemblance to Dear Old Dad as well. Goose, Moose, and Grouse are all blond-haired and blue-eyed kiddos with the same skin-tone as the Beckster. 

You can see Mouse, Moose, and Goose below to compare:

Mouse, on the other hand, is definitely my spitting-image. Does anyone beg to differ? 

But I recently came across photos of Grouse by himself, and one of me with the Grouse. And the resemblance stunned me. Our facial expressions, if not the actual color of hair and eyes, were eerily similar. See for yourselves, but don't compare how Grouse looks when he is in the photo with me; just compare the top photo with me in the bottom one. Got it?

When I saw the bottom photo, I instantly thought, "I've seen Grouse look like that, too!" So at least in facial expressions, it's clear that the apple doesn't fall far from the dad-tree with at least two of our small traveling zoo members!

50 Years Ago: 1967 in Music, Part Two

Picking up from yesterday's post, 1967 had so many great songs I felt that I couldn't capture them all in just one post. So, here are just three more, but they deserve their own space and their own spotlight:



Jefferson Airplane: Well before some members of the original band became the hated poster child of "corporate rock" with We Built This City and Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now in the 1980s as the offshoot Starship, the Grace Slick-fronted San Francisco band delivered two of the most astounding, vibe-of-a-generation capturing singles in one year: Somebody to Love and White Rabbit. I'm not sure if the dreaded "second album" jinx was around in the 1960s like it was in later decades (look no further than U2's second album, 1982's October), but Jefferson Airplane's second LP is a smashing success, a lot of it due to this being the first album featuring the stunning Grace Slick as their lead vocalist. She was one of the first female rock stars of all time. 

Somebody to Love is a thrill ride of a song, an adrenaline rush of lyrics delivered with Slick's strong vocals and backed by screeching guitar. The words speak of despair and angst as Grace challenges the intended recipient to examine their life and find what's meaningful. 

White Rabbit is, frankly, one helluva great track! Both this song and Somebody to Love came to Jefferson Airplane when Slick joined the band; the songs had been in the repertoire of the Great Society earlier. The trance drum beat, the searing lyrics, the hypnotic crescendo -- it's all too much, in a good way. Name-dropping characters from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, White Rabbit is as steely and sinister as a song can be while, perhaps, not inducing nightmares. 

I was introduced to the song on the radio, the oldies 103.3 station out of Boston. But I think other kids of my generation probably first heard it in a scary scene in Oliver Stone's landmark 1987 film, Platoon. I'd link to the clip with the song playing start-to-finish in the background, but the scene is full of swears. Great song, great memories, great encapsulation of the Haight-Asbury vibe in the late 1960s!

Scott McKenzie: San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair)


THIS SONG might be my all-time favorite oldies/sixties song ever! I first heard it over Memorial Day weekend in 1992, 15 years after it was released, when a Boston radio station was playing the top 500 oldies songs of all time. Borrowing my dad's audio recorder, I held it up to our stereo as song after song came on the air. I taped a lot of good songs, but from the opening jangle chords of San Francisco, I was hooked. 

In one example of facts from the last post crossing to this post, John Phillips of the Mamas and the Papas wrote this psych-pop ballad in 20 minutes, then gave it to his friend Scott McKenzie. Another example of cross-over: the Bee Gees' Massachusetts (mentioned in yesterday's post) was written as a counter to the counter-culture vibe of San Francisco. I listened to San Francisco hundreds of times in my teenage years, wondering what it must have been like to be my age in the late sixties, flocking to the Bay Area with thousands of free-spirited, idealistic young people who objected to the Vietnam War, racism, fitting in, doing what others of an older generation expected of you, and other social ills.

In just under three minutes, Phillips and McKenzie beautifully bottled the counter-culture scene. The song was written for that June's Monterrey International Pop Music Festival, a mammoth concert that inspired Woodstock two years later. Monterrey and Woodstock were the epitome scenes of a young generation, and San Francisco was that generation's anthem. I am only sorry I was born too late to have heard the song in its heyday and to revel in the landscape it so eloquently and movingly captured. 

I remember my maternal grandmother once commented on this song. She and I were chatting as I drove her home, and she knew I loved oldies music. "I didn't like a lot of the songs of your mom's era. But that song about San Francisco and flowers was wonderful!" 

Not just a terrific oldies tune, San Francisco remains, 50 years later and 25 years after I first heard it, hands-down one of my all-time favorite songs. McKenzie, like Phillips, is no longer with us. Phillips passed away in 2001, and McKenzie in 2012, 45 years after his sole musical claim-to-fame entranced a nation.

50 Years Ago: 1967 in Music, Part One

Once again, I'm writing about song anniversaries. It's one of my favorite topics on this blog and in my life. These songs are celebrating their golden anniversary this year, and they rank among my most favorite ditties of all time. This list skews heavily towards the Beatles and the burgeoning sounds of classic rock, and for that reason I'm putting all of the songs by the same artist together, instead of just ranking them:


The Beatles: A Day in the Life. All You Need is Love. Baby, You're a Rich Man. Hello Goodbye. Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. Penny Lane. Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band. Strawberry Fields Forever. Most of these songs appeared on their incredible Sgt. Peppers album, which came out in June 1967 and, last I checked, its shock waves were still hitting musical shores around the globe. I've written about a lot of these songs before, so no recap is necessary. 1967 was the pinnacle of the Beatles era, though no one really knew it at the time. Each song is a brilliant production, each one so different from other songs.  


The Doors: Break On Through (to the Other Side). The End (such a mind-blowing song). Light My Fire (especially the long-format version, clocking in at over 7 minutes). Love Me Two Times (a rare Doors song not written by lead singer Jim Morrison). Phenomenal, spell-binding songs from a master lyricist and showman, whose fiery stage presence added greatly to the themes of their output. Some of the best music of all time, in four songs, all released this year. Those four mega-hits would, for many groups, be the epitome of their careers, the best they could ever record. But for The Doors, it's just part of their musical arsenal. 

  

The Mamas and the Papas: Though slightly less majestic and haunting compared to their best offerings (Monday Monday, California Dreamin'), the quartet released the wondrous songs Dedicated to the One I Love, Creeque Alley, and Twelve Thirty (Young Girls are Coming to the Canyon. The first two songs were on the LP Deliver (above, left), while Twelve Thirty was recorded and released later in '67 and appeared on the group's last album, 1968's The Papas & the Mamas. Wow, to have been alive to hear this group in-person! To have seen that beautiful Michelle Phillips in her singing prime (she's the one in the striped shirts on both album covers; yes I have a crush on her).



The Monkees: Scoff if you must, but this much-maligned group had a string of pop music mega-hits this incredible year. They released three albums in 1967! Like 1966's I'm a Believer, one of the Monkees' best singles this year -- Look Out (Here Comes Tomorrow) -- was written by Neil Diamond. Pleasant Valley Sunday, about suburban angst and a veiled shot at the fallacy of domestic bliss, also came out in 1967, as did perhaps the finest pop song of the entire decade, Daydream Believer. Songwriter Carole King, who became more famous in her own right in the 1970s, co-wrote Pleasant Valley Sunday, which was intended to be the first of a trilogy of Monkees' songs taking a subtle hammer to the tree of suburban life and its masking of what is real. Daydream Believer is a saccharine sweet ode to teenage crushes and young-adult marriage. You might think it's fluff, but I happen to find joyous harmony in its simple lyrics and infectious melody. 

The Rolling Stones: Three terrific, though controversial, songs came from the Bad Boys of Rock 'n Roll this year: Let's Spend the Night Together, She's a Rainbow, and a personal favorite of mine, the softly psychedelic Ruby Tuesday. The first song was played by the band on "The Ed Sullivan Show," with the lyrics changed to "let's spend some time together," although hyper-sexual frontman Mick Jagger intentionally rolled his eyes as he sang the altered words. Once that song was done, the Stones hit the dressing room, then re-emerged for their next set on the Show by wearing Nazi uniforms. Sullivan demanded they re-dress, then banned them from his show -- although they returned a few years later. 

As for She's a Rainbow, this trippy ditty is from the at-the-time shockingly named On Their Satanic Majesties Request and might be a sly ode to the female Big O. 

But it's Ruby Tuesday that stands out to me as one of the most beautiful, mesmerizing songs -- not just in the Stones' catalog, but one of the best this generation of music offered. The lyrics are mystical and endearing, the melody is enchanting, the drum rolls and the bass and the recorder all add elements of charm. I simply love this song and will never tire of hearing it. 

Some of my other most beloved songs from fifty years ago:

1. Brown-Eyed Girl by Van Morrison;
2. Different Drum by the Stone Poneys (Linda Ronstadt on vocals in a searing song told from the woman's side, at the time a far less popular perspective in music; this song was written by the Monkees' Mike Nesmith -- the one who always wore hats);
3. Don't Sleep in the Subway by Petula Clark;
4. The First Cut is the Deepest by Cat Stevens (who was emerging as a powerful young singer);
5. Happy Together by the Turtles (another hypnotic-sounding romance song);
6. Here Comes My Baby by the Tremeloes;
7. Incense and Peppermints by the Strawberry Alarm Clock (talk about psychedelic! This song captures its aura in a few short minutes);
8. Let's Live for Today by the Grass Roots (sha la la la la la, live for today!);
9. Massachusetts by the pre-disco Bee Gees (a beloved, melancholy song about my home state. It's a must-play if we ever move from the Bay State and then return for a visit);
10. Respect by the Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin!
11. Shilo by Neil Diamond (a bittersweet song about a lonely childhood);
12. Sunshine of Your Love by Cream
13. To Sir With Love by Lulu (from the Sidney Poitier movie of the same name, which was a massive hit in the '60s);
14. Windy by the Association (who's skipping down the streets of the city, calling a name that's lighter than air? What a beautiful piece of bubblegum pop!)

Favorite Summer Photo

This looks like heaven to me: a big, expansive lawn. Lots of green and shade trees. Multiple structures to entertain kids. Sunshine. And my wife, on her stomach, writing in a journal, in the relative quiet of a late summer afternoon. She is almost in the exact center of this photo. 

I snapped this deliberately, moving into position to try to get all of the best sights, get the lighting to not be too intrusive (or too dark), to capture the essence of this moment: warmth, quiet, serenity. It's an image I'll always love, of a place that I love, with a person who I love above anyone else.  

Of Spirituality and Regret

An experience today at work left me feeling both spiritually uplifted and regret. A colleague who has worked in our office for over 10 years is leaving. Lauren is very friendly, positive, smart as a whip, and kind. She's about 8 years younger than me, and I always enjoyed interacting with her in meetings or passing in the hallway. 

At one point over the years, she shared with me that she attends church each Sunday. I made a mental note of that and moved on. Somewhere along the way, I shared with her that I went to church, too. She made a similar mental note and, like I had done, moved on. We never took lunch together to connect more as co-workers. And we never brought up the other's faith again.

Today I walked the 200 or so feet (totally an estimate, I was never good at measuring things) to wish her well at The Veritas Forum. Veritas connects with Christian college students on-campus to host speaking engagements focusing on matters of faith, religion, and other disciplines in the world. Its mission is to "explore life's hardest questions and the relevance of Jesus Christ to all of life." Knowing a little of Lauren's faith plus knowing her personality and her professional skills, she is the perfect person for this role. She will be awesome in this important endeavor. 

I stopped by Lauren's office and she immediately joked, "You have to add me to your list!" By which she referred to a spreadsheet I've kept since 2000 of all of the people who have joined and left our organization. It's a not-so-secret secret around the department. I don't publicize it, but over the years some people have become aware of it and asked me about it. I don't share it, either. 

I replied, "Let's do this one better. Do you want to add your name to the list?" We laughed and headed for my office. I told Lauren, "You're only the second person ever who has input their own name into the list," which she thought was awesome. 

We chatted for about ten minutes about her leaving our organization and about her new chapter of work and life. That second paragraph above, about mental notes? That's taken directly from our conversation. We both expressed regret at not following up with each other about our spirituality, about never having taken lunch together. I think she's Episcopalian. She knows I'm Mormon. As we talked in broad terms about our faith, I felt so spiritually uplifted by hearing Lauren talk about how this next step for her will be both professionally terrific and faith-inspiring. I even got choked up as we talked and I applauded her for getting into "such meaningful work" as what she'll do at Veritas. 

She regretted not having made more space and time for her spiritual side at our organization. Why didn't we hold a Bible study, for example?  She told me that numerous people in our office had approached her since news of Lauren's departure went live to express a lot of the same sentiments that I had said to her: that we admire her next step, that we're also people of faith, that this couldn't have happened to a nicer person than Lauren. It is great to hear that other co-workers have faith in God. But it's just not something that most people share openly at work. I regret that. 

We can't make up for lost time. It's too bad that Lauren and I hadn't taken our chats over the years beyond work stuff. And the take-away, we both agreed, is to make more of an effort going forward, wherever we are, to give voice to our faith at work, to look more actively for conversations and people who mention their beliefs or who pick up on the times when I talk about going to church, our church activities, etc. 

I'm thrilled for Lauren to have this opportunity, which she said she felt directed by God to pursue. She leaves a big hole in our organization, as a co-worker and as a person. And I feel disappointed in myself for not seeking to know Lauren more as a person instead of just as a colleague, to get a better sense of what she believes about God and how her faith impacts her life. That's a regret-tinged lesson learned, one I intend to improve upon now.  

Grouse's Latest Non Sequitur

Not the clearest picture of Our Dynamo Grouse, but he's also at a precocious age where some things he says are also not crystal-clear. Take, for example, his most recent hilarious (to us) non sequitur:

Latter-day BONKS!

It's a take-off on part of our church's full (better take a deep breath before enunciating) name, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. But why he chose to change its ending from Saints to Bonks is, unfortunately, known only to his own little mind. And that's okay. 

Perhaps taking a page from his book, Yours Truly has -- just this week -- begun, out of nowhere, to give Grouse a new nickname. It's also a non sequitur: Mister Bananas! This nickname makes no sense and, like Obi-wan Kenobi (at least so far), has no origin story. It came out of my mind. At work on Tuesday, I was like a little kid, which -- for those of you who know me (my apologies!) is nothing new. The nickname Mister Bananas kept running through my mind at the office, and I could not hold back the chuckling at my own inane joke.  

Maybe I am the source of Grouse's non sequiturs? That's a scary thought! 

Old Pool and New Pool

I recently joked on Instagram that my parents were ruining a piece of family history (their back yard) by installing a new, above-ground swimming pool. They are doting grandparents and see this as a huge investment for more time and memories with their five grandchildren. We are fortunate to live within a very reasonable drive of my parents' house so we envision being frequent guests at their new pool, below:

This new toy gracing my parents' backyard still leaves ample room for our kids and their cousin S. to run around in and roam. The swing set, sandbox, two red cottages, old basketball court, and shaded lawn areas remain untouched. I long for a yard this massive! It's been 16 years since I last lived at my parents' house, and of the great memories I have of this place, that beautiful and spacious back yard played host to so many of them.

And here, below, is the predecessor pool, which my parents put in in the late spring of 1988. That's my mom on the far left, my neighborhood friends Liam (sitting) and Boopa (standing) on the wooden deck, and my childhood best friend Gerard (nearly off-camera). Where was I, you ask? Probably hiding in the bathroom crying over so much green space being chewed up for this massive swimming pool.

...Only kidding, though I do love green spaces and preserving nature. 

And yes, that kid's name was Boopa. His real name was Ian, but no one called him that, not even his mother. Closing my eyes, her thick Boston-accented voice rings out in my mind from three decades ago, when she'd sing-song yell from her front porch, "Boopa, time for dinna!" I was 13 years old in the summer of 1988. Liam was in my grade, Boopa one year ahead of us, and Gerard two years ahead of us.   

Gerard's mom Betsy, who was my mom's best friend, was months away from learning of her cancer diagnosis when my dad snapped this photo. Betsy's story has been featured in this blog a few times over the years, including most recently on her 25th anniversary here. In the span of a couple months, the life of the kid in the bottom right corner would be devastated. I remember looking at this photo just a handful of years afterward, and even then thinking that our life seemed simpler and happier then. Now, with the span of almost three decades, those feelings of simplicity and happiness, conjured up by looking at this photo and posting it, ring true again.

I like to think that Betsy has seen the happiness that the first pool brought, and the happiness that her little boy has experienced over the last thirty years, as well as the happiness that this new pool will bring. And surely, with the span of time, in the years ahead I'll come to see the summer of 2017 and my own kids' lives as somehow simpler. 

But for now, we're going to enjoy the true happiness that it brings. 

A Saturday in Boston

Feats of Strength...and Tests of Patience!

That is what I dubbed this day-long trek into Boston with three of our four kids (Mouse, age 8; Moose, age 6; and Grouse, age 3.5). Goose was at my parents' house (a.k.a. Nana Camp), and Becky got a day all to herself, a rarity. This excursion was 75% for fun, and 25% to prove to myself that I could handle the logistics and wear-and-tear and just general parenting of little kids, all by myself, in "the Hub of the Universe."

And it was humid, and hot, a partly cloudy day that often deceptively serenades people into not applying sunscreen. But not me! I've learned that lesson the hard way. Becky dropped us off at a nearby MBTA commuter rail station, and we were off!

While we waited for the train to arrive, our boys did sprint-races to work off their energy. 

After disembarking at North Station mid-morning, the four of us hiked it across major roads and found both this statue of the late, controversial Mayor of Boston James Michael Curley and a cool art structure, which these yahoos determined made for great climbing! My sight was set on first visiting Faneuil Hall Marketplace, a location riff with both history and over-the-top commercialism. It's been a gathering-spot since 1743!

And man, did our kids zero in on the commercial part: They made a beeline for the toy stores. Moose wanted a $25 pair of Revolution War replica spy-glasses. Grouse wanted a $30 Minuteman action figure. Mouse, bless her, sensed my growing despair so soon into our day in Boston, and she asked for smaller, cheaper gifts. I let off some exasperation with the promise that we'd return to the toy store later. 

Onward, little travelers! But we didn't make it very far: We had a quick lunch inside Faneuil Hall Marketplace that set me back about $45. All for hot dogs and burgers and fries, and that still didn't keep our boys content. They wanted more, more, more! They were on sensory overload. They started bickering with each other and with me. Moose wanted a new fidget spinner, even though he has one at home. At that point, I marched our brood outside and blew breaths of threatening fire in their direction, warning, "If you keep asking for toys, and fighting, we will walk right back to the train station and go home." 

After lunch, we moved on from Faneuil Hall to the Frog Pond at Boston Common. This was the perfect setting for our kids to cool down from the hot, humid air. It was fun to watch them frolicking in the pool with so many other kids. Thank goodness Moose had a water-proof cast on his arm, his second cast since breaking his right wrist a few weeks earlier. 

Alas, I had two Dad-fails: 1) I didn't bring another diaper for Our Charming Grouse, age 3.5. Big mistake, on several fronts. His diaper soon got waterlogged and was a gross sight as it sagged off his body; and 2) not a Dad-fail common to most dads: my toenails were painted, and I was super-reluctant to doff my sneakers and socks to dip in the water with our kids. Maybe when society changes its mind on men wearing nail polish...  

The Frog Pond wading was undoubtedly our kids' favorite activity of the day, followed closely behind by riding the train to and from Boston. Below, you'll first see our kids heading to Boston. Moose is crying because he accidentally bit his tongue while scarfing on Goldfish. In the second photo, that's the jolly gang heading home around dinnertime. 

I'm so glad that we had this Boston adventure. Becky and I have long talked about our first home not being our forever home. We're not sure how much longer we will be living this close to Boston, or living in New England period. So we are trying to take advantage of the treasures of New England as much as our schedule and energy and dollars allow. I'll always remember this fun outing. We returned home exhausted but with great memories.