I have been wanting to take a family trip to some city—any interesting city!—in the U.S. for some time now. For a while I thought we might lug the kids to D.C., and then Mark’s parents decided to take them there (and to Gettysburg and Colonial Williamsburg) a year or so ago. I didn’t really feel ready to tackle NYC, and I have been to Chicago myself enough times (and really it is close enough to drive for a long weekend).
What is reasonably educational, big but not too big, and features people I know from the internet? Boston, of course.
Seriously, you can walk this entire area, which contains plenty to do for a week.
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Mark insisted that I do all the planning of Things to Do, but he agreed to deal with the airplane tickets and rental home, for which I am grateful. As for the former, that’s fairly straightforward: direct from MSP to Logan, many choices. As for the latter, he says that back when we planned the trip he was only able to locate two places in the price range he was happy with, one near Fenway Park and one in Charlestown; he reserved the Charlestown one with plenty of time left to cancel and told me that if I could find something I liked better I was welcome to switch.
I was not motivated to do that work, and now that we’re here I am perfectly happy with what he found. It is an airy and open row house, a couple of blocks from a transit station (which he did on purpose) and across the street from a grocery store (which he did not do on purpose but I am glad about). It faces a busy street, but as I suspect that you pay a premium for being able to see Charlestown’s charming brick and painted clapboard houses through your windows, I do not mind. Everything is crisp and white, with sunny abstract paintings on fringed canvas stapled to the walls, and the utilitarian loveliness of a comfortable home that has no personal possessions in it whatsoever.
I like staying in hotels when I am alone, but when traveling with a family for more than a day or two, nothing beats having a kitchen and enough room to spread out. Besides, I rather like the fantasy of becoming a citizen for a couple of days, having a neighborhood to call one’s own and explore. And if you are going to become a citizen of Boston for a couple of days, historic Charlestown will certainly do.
Saturday, after a long travel day of taxi van-airplane-airport shuttle-“the T”-walking, we found our apartment, ate a very late lunch at a local chain restaurant, bought groceries, and rested. I wandered around Charlestown a bit, without going up towards the monument, peeking in closed coffee shops and reading the menus in the windows of restaurants, and went back out twice to buy first wine and then bottles of seltzer. The kids ate quesadillas and cereal for dinner and collapsed early.
Sunday I had exactly two plans: go to Mass and then take the Red Line all the way to the end to meet People from the Internet....
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Mass first, I will be brief. We went to the eight o’clock at St. Mary-St. Catherine in Charlestown, in the old St. Mary’s church. The building is lovely, a Gothic exterior and a wedding-cake of statuary and wood inside. My 9yo studied the windows and the carvings with wide eyes. I did too, especially the series of Marian windows on pewsitter’s right and the carved angels in the ceiling. I poked Mark and told him to look up. “They’re like ship’s figureheads!” he said.
I typically don’t take photos inside churches unless there are no worshippers present, but you can see photos and read about the building on the parish website. Very much worth looking at.
Mass was concelebrated by two visiting clergy, one of whom was being welcomed to the rectory just that week and would be doing graduate work at Boston College. The new priest was introduced as being from south India; my guess is that the main celebrant is Nigerian. He introduced himself as a missionary priest. He gave a good, organized homily, with many references from Scripture, on the topic of humility as resting on the “two arms” of truthfulness and generosity. Music: Gloria not sung, piano accompaniment, Gather-type hymns from the annual missalette. Attendance: few families at 8; the 10:30 is advertised as the “family mass.” It was a warm and welcoming environment, with plenty for the younger kids to look at, and a fantastic pew like a box that trapped the 5yo inside!
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After Mass and breakfast in the apartment we headed for the T station, and an hour or so later were picked up in a big white van by.... Melanie Bettinelli of The Wine-Dark Sea!
Domenico Bettinelli’s blog Bettnet was one of the first blogs I ever read way back when the blogosphere was taking off and the universe of Catholic blogs seemed smaller and friendlier. Since then Melanie and I have interacted a lot more—hers has always been one of my favorites, and the rise of Facebook has allowed for those smaller but more frequent interactions, less like long thoughtful letters and more like an ongoing conversation. I am pleased to report that coming into the Bettinelli’s house with my own boisterous family was one of those great experiences of feeling like you already have known each other IRL for years. The younger kids flailed at each other with toy weapons and the older kids sat or stood in the kitchen and talked with the adults about tech and camping and saints and books. We came before lunch and we left right before the kids’ bedtime, stuffed full of Melanie’s quiche and Dom’s fajitas and some really good craft beer, and I could have stayed for hours more.
The best way to make friends is to spend, like, eight to ten years not meeting them in person. I swear.
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