I didn't forget Myron!

A few weeks before I left for Boston, I heard from a Chronicles reader who happens to live in Australia.  I never know who's actually following, so I'm always thrilled when someone contacts me and lets me know!  Anyway, Myron Pentz had stumbled across my blog through a link from another blog that I love (and miss) called Daily Montana.  He'd been reading about our ranching and wanted to give me some books and information about women ranchers in Australia.  He was going to be in the U.S. in September and wondered if he might be able to drop them off on his way through Montana!

Why, yes!  Of course!  

But the day he was driving through Jordan was to be the day I got on the plane to go to Boston.  The Farmer said that he'd be able to make the meeting, but I was disappointed to miss it.  Blog readers from Australia don't exactly drop by all the time and I wanted to visit with him about his area.   

In the middle of the flurry of preparing for the trip, I got another email that said he and his wife were going to be in Lewistown the day BEFORE I left and would drive down THAT day.  My birthday, as it turned out.  What a present, hm?! He called the night before to arrange a meeting place...the Hilltop restaurant.  You can't miss it.  Really.  

Well, I got to the Hilltop at the appointed time and had no idea who to look for.  There was supposed to be a man and his wife, but all I saw were two tables, each with one stranger, and one table with a local family.  Tricky.  Perhaps I got it wrong...? (I know.  Hard to believe I'd mess something up, isn't it?)  Happily, though, Mr. Pentz knew what I looked like and came over to introduce himself!  (Turns out, Mrs. Pentz was in the powder room.)  

We were there for an hour, drinking coffee, visiting, asking questions about each other's worlds and families! Myron was born in the north eastern corner of Montana, it turns out, and so he knew the area fairly well.  Mrs. Pentz was from Holland and had retained that beautiful Dutch accent.  They told me about their children and grandchildren, about the ranching their son did, about how they met (because I really wanted the story and just asked), about their neighborhood and lifestyle.  And they asked dozens of questions about our way of life, too.  They brought a book, a couple movies, magazine about ranching, and a cap from their son's ranch, Glenwarrie.  (I love that name!)

The hour went by SO quickly, and I wish that we'd had more time.  They were continuing on to Sidney and I needed to leave for Billings, so we said goodbye.  I hope they can come again for a longer visit!  I'd like them to see the ranch and meet the family.  (I think I startled them by giving them hugs as we parted, but that's my way.  I hope it didn't scare them off!)

So, Mr. and Mrs. Myron Pentz, I wanted you to know that meeting you was one of the highlights of my birthday, I wish I'd taken a picture of you, and I'll try to include more fashion posts!  (Oh, and the book is fascinating...I'm about halfway through.)

Culinary Surprises

Things Bon Appetit magazine (may it live forever) has failed to educate me on:

• Scrod isn't actually a species of fish.  It's the acronym for Seaman's Catch Received On Deck and can be ANY young white fish.  
• The hotdog buns in New England are not the same as they are in Montana.  When I got my lobster roll at Durgin Park, it looked more like a huge piece of white bread, curved up on each side!  
• There's a BIG difference between Boston clam chowder and Rhode Island clam chowder.  (And you really should pronounce that "chow-duh".) Boston clam chowder is pure love in a bowl...creamy, thick, dense with flavor.  Rhode Island clam chowder is not.  And that's all I'll say about it.
• At Brown University, if you order a triple shot breve, it will come with SIX shots of espresso.  I'm not joking.  Their standard pull is a double, so when I ordered a triple shot, the little barrista looked worried and warned me.  Yikes!
• People drink milk in their tea and coffee; cream, not so much.  
• One can't buy a bottle of wine at the supermarket....they only sell it at liquor stores. Seriously.  There's no such thing as an impulsive bottle of Syrah to go with the stinky cheese in your cart!  
• In a lot of the places we ate, they brought cornbread, not rolls.  This was a bit startling to me!  It was a great leveler, because no one can eat cornbread delicately....
• REAL Boston baked beans are wonderful!  Nothing like the Bush's baked beans we buy in the store, here.  The real ones are not syrup-y at all.  
• Cannoli is crunchy!  Who knew?!
• Lobsters are quite possibly the most perfect date food, ever.  Dinner AND a show!

*Lobster roll notably absent, cornbread crumbs, baked beans with a serious dent, smallish portion of fries left, 1/2 lager for dessert...

Yet MORE Boston...

I know you thought I was done with the Boston posts, but I'm NOT!
There's more.
And since this is my online scrapbook, I'm shoving all the pictures in it and you just have to politely plow through them until I have it out of my system.  Do you have a fresh cup of coffee?  Or English breakfast tea, Alice and Susie K.?
Alright, then....here we go.

Architecture and such:

A couple notes, here....
There's no such thing as "The Historic District" in Boston.  It's ALL historic.  At first, I took pictures of every little scroll and statue, thinking it was the only one I'd see of that kind; then we'd go around the corner and there'd be ANOTHER one, just as old, just as majestic,  just as historically relevant as the other!  And by my last day, I was able to say, "You know what?  I don't really need to see Paul Revere's house.  Let's go to Cheers."

This is one of the buildings I photographed that first day.  I was so amazed at the detail of the stone work!  I'm the sort of person who struggles with Playdough, trying to get it to look like something....to think someone could take ROCK and make it into a scene, with depth and action!

I love the lines behind this, and most especially that she seems to be crying.  

O-KAY.  This one REALLY blew me away.  Want to take a guess at what building this was? (And no, it wasn't a Starbucks, although I saw one on every third block, housed in pretty dang fauhncy buildings.)

It was the library.

 And it had a courtyard.

And a statue/fountain.

And it was so big and gorgeous and historic that we didn't even get to all of it!

AND we had to have tea in the courtyard, just to recover from the tour we DID take!

Okay...moving on....

 Arches....

Spires....

Faneuil Hall....

...with its grasshopper weathervane.

 George Washington...

Some guy in a historic church....

Paul Revere....

Firemen...

WAIT!  How'd THAT get in there!

They were all sitting out front of the fire house on the North End of Boston, bored to death because there aren't an abundance of fires anymore, what with all the buildings being made of stone and all.  The Lieutenant (who is not pictured because he's TAKING the picture) hailed us as we were walking by and said he'd take our picture with the fire engine. And with the Paul Revere statue.  He also acted as a free tour guide, showing us the church that Rose Kennedy attended, explaining about the gentlemen's club up the street and offered suggestions for good places to eat.  We were invited to have sandwiches with them, for pete's sake! 

Only a couple more things, okay?

Churches, with fascinating cemeteries...

That's right, folks; 42 Tiffany stained glass windows!

 

And they don't photograph very well without a flash and tripod, but you get the idea.

In quite a lot of the churches, there were these booths, instead of rows of pews.  Each family would have their own, marked with their surname and it was clear that those more prosperous (and benevolent) had better booths, location-wise.  The explanation was that the churches weren't heated, so all the bodies tucked together in booths kept them warmer.  Considering people in those days went to church for the better part of the day, this made good sense.  Also, Sue and I with our mother brains noted that it was probably much easier to let the kids fidget on the floor in one of these booths, although I'm pretty sure they weren't allowed a whole lot of freedom and mobility.

Did you make it?!

Thanks for being a good sport!

I'll try to put something else on the blog, now, just so you won't feel all jet-lagged, reading travel stories.

Little Bill

When I pulled Dad's baby picture out yesterday, I asked Angus who it was...

He looked at me like I'd lost my marbles and said, "That's ME, Mom!"