Here We Go Again

Ok! So the first few posts about our trip to the great states of Massachusetts and Rhode Island didn't turn out like I wanted. Seems there's a tiny issue with posting the photos. Meaning, they just aren't. I don't know why. I'm switching back to this site and will continue with our oh so fascinating trip up North. I know you are just dying to know what happens next. Will T.D. fight the psycho squirrel? Will our fearless mother actually admit to her family that she's really trying to write and make a go of it? Well, you all know the answer to that sad question. It's a sad answer.

Onward!

Day Two: Thursday dawns with the possibility of more "relaxation", family time and the jubilation that we are getting clamcakes today. For those of you who have not ventured into the South County part of RI, which is where I'm from, a clamcake is a fritter. It's a ball of fried dough that has chopped up clams inside. Sounds oh so appetizing doesn't it? It is actually even to me the non-seafood eater. I LOVE THEM. In mid-March I will crave them. I've bought the batter mix online to make at home which I've never actually done and I've converted H into a believer in the power of the clamcake. For my family the only place to go for these is the Hitching Post located in Charlestown, RI. I've been going since I was a wee lass and have to go each time I'm anywhere near the state of RI between Memorial Day and Labor Day which is the only time the Post is open.

That morning H and I headed to "The Nut". To everyone else it's Dunkin Donuts. To us, it's the "The Nut." Why is it called that? H once heard a friend of mine's ex-boyfriend refer to DD as Dunkies. A term I loathe. It's so, oh I don't know? Uneducated sounding? It seems to encompass all that I find embarrassing about RI. Dunkies. I made H swear on a blood oath that he would never, EVER utter the word Dunkies. Augh. He does it now only to piss me off and it never fails to work as I hear it echo in my brain in my friend's fake Boston accent. I twitch just thinking of it. Anyway, so H came up with the Nut and it's stuck. After the Nut run we headed back to the cabin and hung out for the morning. We thought we would make the trip to South County as one big happy family, complete with T.D., grandparents and all.

This meant waiting for my parents to come back from their "short" trip to visit my uncle's land. About three hours later just as I was about to throw my non-working cell into the lake they walked in the door. With groceries. They had made a side trip. I wasn't going to go into how annoyed H and I were. I just let it go and tried to hussle everyone out the door. T.D. is a schedule baby and we needed to get going. Off the family goes in the Pathfinder out to wander South County. I break my news in the car about the fantastic plan for the day I have. It does indeed involve going to the 'Fantastic Umbrella Factory'. The groans from my Father were very audible for a short time.

"The Umbrella Factory? Come on! That is a hippie commune!" he grumbled. I politely told him to shut it and just figure out how to get there. We were eating lunch there and he was going to like it. And he did. We all did. Even T.D. who got her first taste of salsa to her delight. I think we all had a good time in the end. My Mom and I strolled the gardens and looked in the stores. T.D. hung out with her Pep on a bench pickin' up chicks. Seriously, that man had no idea that his grand-daughter would get so much attention. I didn't tell him that dictators normally do. Women and kids flocked to T.D. and H sat in the truck making business calls.

Next up we drove on to Watch Hill. An area full of old, huge houses on the water and a simple one-street shopping area. I like this small area for the scenery. It's home to the oldest carousel in the country and we let T.D. say hello to the masses there. She also tried some ice cream that she felt the need to plunge her hands into. I wasn't expecting that. While my father seemed perturbed about "the heat, what is your mother doing? Augh. It's hot! Why do we have to look at an empty lot again? It's hot. Aren't we going home yet? It's crowded! I thought you all wanted ice cream. " H and I strolled on, buying a photograph of the hotel that stood on the now empty lot. I made a promise to T.D. that in 2009 we would come back and stay in the new hotel that would occupy that now empty lot as I had always wanted to do before. We left Watch Hill a little weary but surged on to our last stop, The Hitching Post.

Dinner! Fried clams, fried shrimp, fried chicken, and clamcakes!! Whoo hoo! If your arteries weren't clogged before and screaming for mercy they would be after a visit to the Hitching Post. It's a landmark if you ask me. A little red shack on the side of the road with a take-out window and quite possibly the tiniest dining room ever. The walls are covered with a wood paneling that has wooded scenes on it. Bob Ross-type paintings of beach scenes hang on the paneling surrounding green vinyl booths and white formica tables. The floor is a nice beige linoleum. The sun always seems to be blinding at least one person at the table. Does it get any better than this? No, it does not. I love this place! It is summer to me. I gorged on clamcakes and used the outdoor bathroom. You have to, I mean the place is so old it has an outdoor bathroom! Afterwards we waddled out, clutching our chests and guts and took a photo to commemorate T.D.'s first visit to this place. She offered to scribble her signature and let them hang the pic on the wall for a fee but they declined. She scoffed at them and we headed home.

It was dark when we got back to the lake house. Another day of our vacation done. Tomorrow is the Family Reunion. Stay Tuned!