Our anniverary

Our anniverary


I'll start at the end of the day: a wonderful dinner at Perigee in Lee, Massachusetts. We made a reservation at 6:30pm, a little early for us but we figured the restaurant would be in full swing by then. WRONG! We were all alone in the restaurant until a bit after 7pm. It's a typical family owned restaurant; the owner, Dawn LaRochelle, was both dining there and running around answering questions, serving, solving problems, in short: doing a bit of everything. By the time we left at about 9pm, the place was hopping. Why so late? Because everybody has been inside all winter and they want to enjoy the outdoors until dark at this time of year. Can't say as I blame them! Carnivores that we are, Randy had a prime rib and I had a luscious tenderloin in a bacon-bourbon demi-glace. After dinner, a Berkshire Comfort: Amaretto, Kahlua, Cognac, and coffee. Yum!


But that was just the finish of an exercise-filled day on Mt. Everest, uh, Mt. Everett. It just seemed like Mt. Everest. Mt. Everett is a park around one of the tallest mountains (I know, I know, but I won't comment on mountains in the east again) in MA. Our guidebook said that the view from the upper parking lot was of three states, presumably CT, MA, and NY. But the guidebook didn't point out that to get to the upper parking lot we would have to hike, climb, crawl, or any way but DRIVE to the upper parking lot. I don't know about you, but I normally think that "parking lot" assumes a CAR to get there.

Panorama from the top of Mt. Everett

Making the best of the situation, we decided to hike to the top, the upper "parking" lot. 483 vertical feet (Randy had his altimeter with him) later and almost a (semi-horizontal) mile later we did have a view of three states.

After I recovered from THAT excursion, we motored around the area and discovered Bash Bish Falls. OK, OK, we were actually LOOKING for Bash Bish Falls—who could resist a name like that? The legend is that it is named for an Indian maiden who diddled someone she shouldn’t and was pushed over the falls as punishment. I find it hard to believe that anyone would name an Indian maiden Bash Bish.

We parked and headed for the trail to Bash Bish Falls. The first thing we read is the warning sign: a very steep trail and, to quote the sign, “300ft straight up” coming back and the suggestion to drive about a mile and walk a more level, three quarters of a mile to the falls. We went about 30 feet down and I unilaterally decided I was NOT walking yet another 300ft, especially a 300ft “straight up”! 

Randy at Bash Bish Falls

One of the beautiful trees at our timeshare

Pam at the start of the Bash Bish Falls hike

Bash Bish is not a spectacular falls but it is quite pretty. However, have I mentioned that I HATE mosquitoes? Yet again I have been driven from a pretty area by those blankety-blank insects. Poor Randy is also driven away even though the mosquitoes seem to be boycotting him. I don’t think he really understands what it is like to be stalked by mosquitoes.

As we drive around this beautiful countryside I am always interested in the use of language in signage. Today it was signs that exhorted us to “Lug in/Lug out.” I am accustomed to seeing “Carry it in/Carry it out” or “Pack it in/Pack it out.” It is constantly amazing to me how linguists can tell what part of the country you are from not only by your accent, but by the words you use. 

I was driving the golf cart at Tucson Medical Center (yes, it’s so big it needs a golf cart to take visitors and staff to various parts of the hospital!) and before I started out with a few visitors on board, I said, “All set?” One of the visitors asked if I was from Connecticut (I am). He said that “All set” is one of the regionalisms in Connecticut. I was flabbergasted that he knew where I was from! Just from one phrase.