“Nothing is more exhausting than waiting for a train, especially when you’re lying on the rails”
I was sitting on the asphalt and installing an app on my phone to pay for parking in Middleboro / Lakeville.
It all started when Daniel agreed to come to Boston with me.
I learned a long time ago that husbands, even the best ones, can’t read minds.
That’s why I always tell Daniel what I want for my birthday.
This year, I just wanted to spend a day with him, like walking around Boston.
Daniel agreed. And I decided to combine business with pleasure. First, I wanted to learn how to go to Boston by train (I always used to go by bus), and second, to buy delicious food in a Russian store.
We began to prepare, each in his own way.
I found out the train schedule, embroidered a hoodie with stars, shortened a long T-shirt, covered my nails with gel polish, made a mask for my hair, and prepared two backpacks.
Daniel was in heavy mode, sawing stones and laying out the sidewalk, mowing the grass, watering the vegetable garden.
And then the day came.
It came and went, quickly, unfortunately. Something surprised us, something made us smile…but in general, all the tasks were completed.
The wonder started at the Middleboro/Lakeville station. The station is located on the border of two cities, hence the double name. We arrived there by car (20-30 minutes from home).
We thought of seeing a parking lot, a small station building (where you can buy train tickets, pay for parking, and get info). In fact, we saw a parking lot, a platform with a few benches, and rails going into the forest.
Middleboro/Lakeville
After installing the app, I paid for parking. $ 4 dollars a day for a place guarded only by security cameras is a bit much, in my opinion.
Train tickets are sold by the conductor. He goes out on the platform, loudly announces where we are going and pushes the passengers into the railcar. And then, when the train departs, he goes through the railcars and sells tickets.
They say that if it’s warm outside, it’s hotter in Boston. And if it’s cold, it’s colder in Boston.
We were lucky with the weather, it was warm and sunny. The sweatshirt with the stars embroidered on it, I’m glad I left it at home.
South Station in Boston greeted us with construction work throughout the perimeter, closed cafes, and no people. Not all the cafes were closed, McDonald’s was open. For the first time in my life, I ate at McDonald’s. You won’t believe it, the bun had a slice of pickled cucumber, a slice of cheese and a cutlet as thin (!) as a slice of cheese.
And Boston itself was as beautiful as ever. The sun, the tall, oddly constructed buildings stretching into the clouds, the ocean smelling of salty fish, and the passers-by, less than before the pandemic, but more than in New Bedford.
Dan’s tourist mood lasted for an hour. We took pictures on the embankment. And then we turned on the “on mission ” button.
We drove to the Russian store, bought almost all the products from my list.
There, Russian wife was lecturing her elderly Russian husband. He tasted the grapes, unwashed, straight from the shelf and explained to his wife something about the thickness and taste of the grape’s skin.
A Russian woman a little older than me bought Russian style pancakes, not stuffed, but simple round ones from the refrigerator….Even Dan was surprised.
The man in front of me in the queue, bought a lot: fried smelt, seafood salad, herring under a fur coat,… Dan and I were already at the checkout counter, and that man was still filling up his cart.
Where did the carts come from? The store is so small that two carts will not fit in the aisle. Probably the store’s owner brought them in for the elderly, or very hungry people.
This was the end of the adventures and impressions.
We returned to Middleborough on the scheduled 3 o’clock train. We jumped into our sun-warmed car and went home. Through traffic jams and detours. Daniel knows the way.
At home, we were greeted by a sleepy Crackle. He managed to sleep on our couch and on his bed. And now he was glad to be able to spend time with us outside, he does not like being alone.
Dan began to continue sawing the stones, and I, like an exemplary and grateful wife, began to sweep the stone dust into the space between the large stones.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” I said.
“Just keep going,” Daniel answered.
Yes, yes, I think, I would rather have the state open after the pandemic. Then I can go to Boston again, on the bus, maybe alone, and walk up to the calluses.
How would you like to spend your birthday?
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