To Westborough one last time

Last weekend was incredibly hot in much of the eastern United States and Rode Island was no exception. With temperatures sliding past the 100 F mark air conditioning became a virtual necessity for some folks. Susan's sister Maryhad chosen that particular weekend to hold her porch sale, shedding the last vestiges of some twenty years or so of living in New England, and getting ready for the next big move in her life: Texas, Austin to be exact.

Friday after work I drove Susie to Westborough so she could pitch in and help tag and prep things for sale -- the plan was for her to spend the night so they could kick the sale off first thing Saturday morning. We arrived about 4pm and and chatted a bit while Mary bustled about.

About 6pm we headed downtown to grab a burger at South Street Diner. The service was no nonense, right out of the 1950s (Waitress: "OK honey whaddaya have?") but we spent a pleasant time in the a/c before the girls turned to the serious work of the evening. After I helped to schlep a few larger things downstairs, I said adieu and pointed myself and the car south toward the Ocean State.

The following day, Saturday I drove back to Westborough to pick the girls up for a trip into Boston for dinner. The sale had gone off like clockwork, thunderstorms notwithstanding, and Mary even sold her car that very day as well. Anyway, their cousin Brenda from Chicago was in Boston for a confab and we hooked up with her, Frank and Cathy and Dick and Dorothy for a dinner of seafood at, where else: Legal Seafood. (Although frankly I would have preferred the food from Illegal Seafood but that's another story.)

The evening slipped by, as they usually do at such things, without anyone noticing it was time to go. We said our goodbyes, got the car out of the parking garage and headed for I-90, the Mass Pike and home.