It’s day five of our trip to New England. I’ll write more about it all later, but for the moment I have wi-fi, so I’m taking advantage. Now, up until today we’ve been vacationing in style. Luxurious hotels, plush bedding. The food, too, has been superb. However, notice I say “hotels”. We’ve been in a different town every night, and those are only the towns we’ve slept in. They’ve all passed in a blur as Pasco whisks us from one to another. We are up at the crack of dawn (tomorrow, for instance, we are expected to be ready to leave at 7 AM) and move on to the next town. I’d like to say it’s all planned out with a purpose, but it’s not. It’s all up to Pasco’s whim at the moment and heaven forbid we protest (which I attempt often). When I complain that I sleep in later at home when I’m working and suggest we, I don’t know, stay in one town for at least two consecutive nights, Pasco rolls his eyes, throws up his hands and says, “What’s the point in hangin’ around for?” Since he’s driving, paying, and has a talent for steamrolling over anyone’s opinion but his own, off to the next town we go.
And so, here we are in Falmouth, MA, ready to catch the ferry to Martha’s Vineyard. Pasco, tired of driving and shelling out money in every direction, decided to play it conservative this time and opt for more economical accommodations tonight. I don’t have a problem with this. I appreciate what it costs to take a week long vacation with a family of four. However, I admit I’ve been a bit of a snob at the extreme to which we’ve changed the comfort level of our hotels. First of all, let me preface all this by saying that this morning we toured The Breakers in Newport, RI. If you’ve never heard of it, it’s the Vanderbilt’s summer home. It fabulous and I’m slightly resentful God didn’t see it fit to let me live in all it’s Glided Age splendor. Still, priceless mansions aside, as I said before Pasco has been generous with our accommodations up until this point.
Currently, I am blogging on a bed in the Carlton Motor Inn. See, they try to throw you for a loop there with the ritzy “Carlton” but tack on “Motor Inn” to give a hint as to what you’re really in for. We had to plug in our air conditioning when we entered our room, if that gives you any indication (by the way our super thrifty plug-in air conditioner only knows how to blow hot air). The front desk charges a dollar for those little complimentary shampoos. The room sports super stylish (homemade?) cotton curtains–two are blue and one is pink and a few inches shorter that its actual window. The one nightstand in the room partially obstructs a mystery door…a door that seems so mysterious, in fact, that my sister and I just went ahead and completely blocked it with the nightstand. Oh–Liza just declared she found a dead bug, belly up, the size of her pinky. Awesome.
So anyway, I could complain all night about our current living conditions, but far be it from me to sound prissy (too late?). I just read what I’ve written so far to my sister and she reminded me that I left out the pubic hair we found on the floor of our bathroom. All I’ll say about that is that it was extraordinarily long. Accordingly, flip-flops in the shower and around our “suite” have become an absolute must.
A post to look forward to: how I saved my mother’s life tonight at Falmouth’s finest dining, Seafood Sam’s. Think glorified Long John Silver’s. However, considering the breakneck schedule my father is keeping us on, don’t hold your breath while waiting for it (in the meantime, I’m holding my breath in hopes that nothing creepy or crawly finds me in the middle of the night).