Seems like everyone else is at the coolest conventions this weekend. I'm... not. But I seem to recall that my reporting on the PVAD never made it past "singing good." Let's try that again, with a few more parts of speech. I flew in just as the fireworks were going up on the 4th of July. Just cruising north on 91 again made me way too happy. It rained for most of the week, which was a nice change of pace. I didn't get QUITE as excited about the puddles as TG, but a good old fashioned thunderstorm was a welcome change. The summer forecast here varies from "dry and sunny" to "dry with the haze of forest fires".
Singingwise I really got to stretch myself. I do not exaggerate when I say there was not a single seat in the alto section the whole weekend. Fortunately it turns out my voice can actually produce treble for three days straight when it doesn't have to yell at kids and gets to sleep for 13 hours in the Mahoney's brand new guest bed! And we broke in the newly arrived HOA hymnals at the multibook singing in Amherst and the Harp of Ages singing in Leyden. Super fun.
I have no actual pictures, but there are some lovely ones over here. Most of which consist of the social, which... I slept through. (See above.)
After I got all that pesky singing out of the way, I got to finally visit the National Yiddish Book Center! Grandpa Labon, he of the last post, got me a membership there years ago. Jenna was awesome enough to let me drag her to a screening of The Goldbergs, and I bought an apron. Then I spent a whole day in Brattleboro swinging and washing a porcupine with R and TG! And finally I rounded off the week in Boston with some family quality time and catching up with Andrea and Briana! (AKA my two favorite friends who gave a fish a funeral without me.) This mostly involved a lot of good food and ice cream and late nights getting the latest Mtown / camp fasola gossip. And driving. And getting lost. And turning around. Note to self: You are not allowed back in Boston until you buy a GPS. I mean it! Life is so much better when the nice British lady tells you what to do.
Oooh, I do have a few measly pictures!
Dinner with A and J. Fonduuuuue!
Foster is a fatty fat cat now! Bless his heart.
Bella strikes a pose worthy of Watson.