We are back refreshed from our mini-vacation to the green southern lands of Connecticut and Manhattan. Seriously, flowers are growing down there while here in Maine all plant life is dormant and mostly brown. In fact, the only green grass I have seen is on Hadlock Field as we drove through Portland yesterday and in this one house’s lawn on my drive to work, most likely right above their leach field. Driving down to CT to visit my folks is almost old hat for Hazel. She’s really a champ at spending 6+ hours in a car, especially considering she travels strapped into a backward-facing seat by way of a five-point harness the whole time.

While in CT, Megan and I were able to see our niece, Carolyn, and her brand new baby brother, our nephew, Tyler. Plus, we had a wedding to attend in Manhattan. Due to the lateness of the event, it only made sense for us to leave Hazel in the competent care of Grandma and Poppa (née my Mom and Dad) for some much needed quality time. My old college chum (once you graduate, college friends become chums — it’s a fact!) Big Dave married Aislinn, a delightful lass if ever there was one. Their blessed day was, by far, the fanciest wedding I have ever attended. But it wasn’t fancy in a wearing-uncomfortable-rented-dress-shoes sort of way; despite the posh that dripped from every corner, the mood was relaxed and all attendees were contented throughout the entire evening. Blonde was even able to wear a napkin on his head without being jettisoned by the wait staff.

Without going into every minute detail, I think you can sum up the impression of this wedding with one word: bagpipes. We knew we were at the right church when we heard the bagpiping resounding off the tall buildings of Park Avenue. It was a nice way to stake their claim on this section of the Big Apple, but our kilted serenader wasn’t done once the ceremony kicked off. Following the grand hitching, his delightful piping greeted the assembled as we left the church and continued as he led all 200 of us through the streets of New York, making our way from 38th and Park to just north of Grand Central Station. Even without Shriners doing figure-eights in teeny cars and winging candy at passersby, it was still a hell of a parade.

All in all, it was a good think that we didn’t bring Hazel into NYC with us, as she would have come across many a Mets fan. She really doesn’t like Mets fans. Like, really really.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, April 8th, 2008 at 9:48 am and is filed under CT, Family, Friends, Rituals & Ceremonies, Travel.You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.