Posted on July 2, 2002 at 11:44 am | No Comments
There’s a lot of “H” words going on in Boston today: Hot. Humid. Hazy. Hellish. Help! Temps in the high 90s, feels like the 100s. I’m going to find out exactly how little time I can spend outdoors, and how much I can spend in air-conditioned comfort. I hate days that make staying a few extra hours at work look like a good idea.
So… Matt Saunders and Mary Stopas are now officially “Mr. & Mrs. Saunders”, and their wedding weekend was as cool as the two of them are together. A beautiful summer-morning ceremony up in New Hampshire, and rockin’ reception inside at the Bedford Village Inn. Great food, an excellent wedding band, an open bar, and lots of nice little moments and conversations with good friends and the newly-met. I really can’t think of any way the day could have been made more perfect. I mean, the ceremony was even ‘bacon-flavored’, thanks to the mini-quiches and bacon-wrapped scallops being prepared in the nearby kitchen.
That night, we hit the town. The town, in this case, being Portsmouth, NH. I’d never seen it in daylight, and while it was as touristy as it was beautiful, it really agreed with Amie and I. A cozy Bed & Breakfast (aren’t just about all B&Bs referred to as ‘cozy’?), and a thoroughly entertaining night out with the ring-wearin’ couple and friends. Granted, much of the entertainment was supplied by Matt and the rainbow assortment of drinks we bought him at the super-cool King Tiki Bar. Man, I wish Boston had a place like the KT. Three levels of hawaiian-flavored fun, with hip tunes, crushed-velvet paintings of nearly-nude polynesian ladies, and South Park pinball. And oh, the drink selection… just ask the newlyweds…
A late Saturday night stop at Gilley’s, then a Sunday morning gathering for big breakfasts at yet _another_ very cool local establishment… the Friendly Toast (owned by the Tiki folks, too, o’course). The servings at the FT were way more than most of us could handle, and Amie says the homefries were the best she’s ever had. I was actually partial to the garlic toast. It was quite friendly indeed.
Post-breakfast, Amie and I headed across the Memorial Bridge on Route 1 to Kittery, Maine, where we snuck in a small amount of outlet shopping (although I wasn’t mentally prepared for it, and cramped Amie’s shoppin’-style a little) before heading over to York Beach. The water was too damn cold, ensuring that it would never actually touch the for beachwear we had just bought for the occasion. Ankles only, thank you very much. But the sand was soft and the sun felt oh-so good. And no, there’ll be no pictures of me in my bathing suit… there’s already too much offensive stuff out there on the ‘net.
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