Why "Paul Revere Texts His Dead Camp Buddies"? Because it's the only title I can think of that encompasses this slightly random assortment of photos and observations.
Gigi goes off to her first real sleepaway camp. She brands it, "officially better than the Parent Trap." From a child who has seen that movie probably 50 times, that is high, high praise indeed. Camp Foss is in New Hampshire, and is a nice antidote from life in the big city (the big French city, especially).
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, which in our case is not a ranch but a 3-level condo in suburban Boston, we have this photo of the Lexington Church. Despite the title of this posting, this is not actually the Paul Revere Church, but it's got a lot of New England, revoluationary-era charm. And so does this minuteman on his cell phone at the Lexington green. To me, this can only be rivaled by our mahut (elephant driver) in India or our camel driver in the Moroccan Sahara on their cell phones.
Paris has the Pere Lachaise cemetery and the slightly-less-famous-but-no-less-impressive Montparnasse Cemetery; the Boston area has the Mt. Auburn cemetery (in Cambridge). It turns out to be no coincidence that Mt. Auburn reminds me of the cemeteries in Paris, as it turns out it was modeled directly after Père Lachaise. Mt. Auburn houses such luminaries as Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Winslow Homer, Henry Cabot Lodge (Jr. and Sr.), Fannie Farmer, and Mary Baker Eddy. My cousin Tracey and I are walking through and find this tomb for the decidely less famous Barnabas Bates. I'm not sure it's the most eloquent epitaph. On the other, it's a lot better than being remembered as a serial killer. I mean, who doesn't appreciate cheap postage? (Well, just about everybody now that there's e-mail and texting, but still....)
Gigi goes off to her first real sleepaway camp. She brands it, "officially better than the Parent Trap." From a child who has seen that movie probably 50 times, that is high, high praise indeed. Camp Foss is in New Hampshire, and is a nice antidote from life in the big city (the big French city, especially).
Meanwhile, back at the ranch, which in our case is not a ranch but a 3-level condo in suburban Boston, we have this photo of the Lexington Church. Despite the title of this posting, this is not actually the Paul Revere Church, but it's got a lot of New England, revoluationary-era charm. And so does this minuteman on his cell phone at the Lexington green. To me, this can only be rivaled by our mahut (elephant driver) in India or our camel driver in the Moroccan Sahara on their cell phones.
Paris has the Pere Lachaise cemetery and the slightly-less-famous-but-no-less-impressive Montparnasse Cemetery; the Boston area has the Mt. Auburn cemetery (in Cambridge). It turns out to be no coincidence that Mt. Auburn reminds me of the cemeteries in Paris, as it turns out it was modeled directly after Père Lachaise. Mt. Auburn houses such luminaries as Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Winslow Homer, Henry Cabot Lodge (Jr. and Sr.), Fannie Farmer, and Mary Baker Eddy. My cousin Tracey and I are walking through and find this tomb for the decidely less famous Barnabas Bates. I'm not sure it's the most eloquent epitaph. On the other, it's a lot better than being remembered as a serial killer. I mean, who doesn't appreciate cheap postage? (Well, just about everybody now that there's e-mail and texting, but still....)
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