The Great White North

Now, I know what you all are thinking [all two of my subscribers], "The Great White North, do you mean Canada? The land of Beaver Tails and air so cold your mouth freezes shut when you are sipping a beer? That wasteland?"

Now, dear readers, that is not the Great White North that I speak of, so pull your mind out of the gutter and stop thinking those things about our great ally Canada! No, the place I speak of is the most frigid Massachusetts. Yes, some might consider it a wasteland in their own right, but as it is the state of my beloved alma mater, I cannot speak one distasteful word against that far left state [what? you say it is on the right side of the country?... we are not on the same page, or joke, as it were].

The end of September rolled around and the longings in my bones could not be tossed aside anymore. I had to venture/traverse/trek to that great campus. It was my destiny.



Alright, so this isn't on campus. It is on the property of my dear friends Ben and Kenny. And this is Lindsay. We hung out. It was beautiful.



My lovely friends Kenny and Ben. I spent an entire day with the two of them. And it was simply lovely. We had breakfast at a local delicious diner. I spent a lot of time with Ben playing cards and hanging out in the campus kitchen. And then at the end of the day we went to their humble [and awesome] abode and cooked dinner. I am so thankful for friends like them.

Their lovely homestead all the way up in Gloucester. Ben and Kenny are renting it from this older gentleman. The house is quite wonderful! The inside is all hardwood quite similar to my Grandpa's cabin in Upstate New York. A dream come true for the rustic modern man who wants to live in a not so modern world.

 

My beautiful friend Lindsay made an appearance at the humble, rustic abode. Staying with us for only a short time [ministry obligations on campus, pshhh], I was glad for the time that I did have. We frolicked, ate, and frolicked some more. Perfect for the leprechauns in us.

Getting ready for dinner. Do I trust the boys with knives? Not really.

 But then again, they probably shouldn't trust me with a knife.

Beautiful and delightful details around the ol' homestead.

One of my personal favorites.

Our beautifully set table. This would be the perfect picture for a cute little home and country magazine. What? You don't take amatuer photographs you say? Well that's just lovely... just lovely. I didn't like those magazines anyways!

Kenny himself popping up out of their cigar spitting hole. Disgusting. Although, very clever. That way they don't have spit all over their deck. Apparently this hole was built because a tree used to grow up out of the deck. They have since demolished the tree [sad], but the legend lives on! Kind of. Alright, no legend lives on. It's totally false.

I will leave you, friends and comrades [sounds slightly Soviet Union circa 1950], with this last picture. Their property is absolutely, positively gorgeous. The sun was setting behind the trees giving a glow to the landscape, lighting the darkest corners for just a moment more before darkness enveloped the under lit area. The brush, the layout, the little details all came together for a beautiful ending to the evening.

Thanks Massachusetts for having me. I'll be back...