Pardon the recent lack of posts-- between the sloooooow process that is inexpertly mudding drywall and the awesome trip we took over the weekend, there's not much progress to speak of in the bedroom and laundry room. I was all excited to get back home to finish up my mudding, but I unfortunately had a bit of a run-in with a hotel door in Lexington, Massachusetts, and now I'm stuck sitting with my foot up while my seven stitches heal.
We spent the weekend with some of our favorite people in two of our favorite places-- the Boston area and our former home of New Haven, Connecticut. Two of our dear friends were married at the beautiful DeCordova Museum in Lincoln, MA and we were so excited to go. I mean, SO excited. Like, so excited that I absolutely knew something bad was going to happen. You know when something is just too good to be true? We were not only going to attend the gorgeous, intimate, personal wedding of two people we adore; but also spend time with some of our very favorite pals (also wedding guests and the owners of the best poodle ever) who just bought a house in my dream neighborhood in New-Haven-adjacent Hamden, CT. We also planned to pop into NYC before our return flight from JFK; we were hoping to stroll around Central Park (where we got engaged) and see our niece and nephew (and their parents, of course!) in Harlem.
The first snafu occurred when we arrived at the airport in Portland on Friday and couldn't get the key out of our car's ignition. We finally worried it enough to yank it out, but the ignition was stuck in the battery-on position, so we knew the battery would be dead by the time we got back. And since the battery was on, the doors wouldn't lock. But we were out of time to mess with it, so we sprinted for the shuttle and boarded our flight. One hurdle jumped (or at least delayed).
But later that night, I was trying to pull open a stuck door at the hotel, and it finally opened with epic force and essentially cut off the tip of my toe. A few hours later, I had stitches and antibiotics and strict instructions not to walk much. Boo.
We did squeeze in a bit of New England tourism anyway, checking out the Buckman Tavern in Lexington (site of the first skirmish of the Revolutionary War) on Saturday and Walden Pond on Sunday, and of course on Saturday evening I ignored my doctor's instructions and did a bit of cautious dancing at the wedding. Sue me.
Sunday afternoon we returned with our pals to their beautiful new house in Connecticut, where we spent the next two days reliving the early days of our relationship and eating everything in sight. Maybe I walked a little bit more than I should have and I definitely ate more than any doctor would recommend, but I've been looking forward to a New Haven visit pretty much since the day we moved out of our apartment there. I wasn't about to sit on the sofa and miss out, you know? Though sitting on the sofa with this guy is very tempting:
He had to have a drastic haircut after an encounter with a skunk a few weeks ago, but he is still every inch the charmer.
Yesterday we realized we just shouldn't try to squeeze in a trip into the city-- between time constraints and the fact that, due to my constant walking, my stitched wound was still bleeding quite a bit-- so we made our way to JFK (why, why, why aren't there ever any good flights out of LaGuardia? It's, like, a million times more convenient) and arrived in Portland at midnight. After collecting our bags and getting our car jumped, we started the one-and-a-half-hour drive home.
And now I'm resting on the sofa, willfully ignoring the school work, housework, and drywall work that need to be done. Renovator, heal thyself.
More later on a pair of very exciting and adorable new additions that came home with us!
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