I got to take an extended vacation thanks to the holiday week. I gotta tell you, post vacation blues SUCK. Back to reminisce on the good times.
First things first – had to swing by the Chive to grab a beer with the guys and the Berries, and watch Elliot play the didgeridoo.
Legit Australian-style. Then we caught a red eye out with hardly any sleep. Yay.
Greeted with a local and patriotic brew.
Along with a delicious, piping hot bowl of chowda. Only bad thing about this picture? It was about 90 degrees with about 90% humidity. Still delicious.
Dinner was swordfish, caught that morning by a local fisherman, along with freshly roasted asparagus and potatoes.
And chardonnay. Gotta have the chardonnay on a hot night.
I was a member of the clean plate club. My first time having swordfish – I’m ruined. Never again will I be able to enjoy frozen fish.
On the 4th of July, we woke up bright and early and grabbed a shady spot on the street to enjoy the local parade. It was even hotter out than the day we arrived.
Military veterans getting their due recognition. They even had a car with some WWII vets drive through.
Aaand mermaids and clowns…. With bubbles nonetheless…
We took Commander Matt’s parental units’ boat out every day we were there. I enjoyed the sun. It enjoyed me.
It enjoyed me a little too much. I spent the rest of the trip coating myself with aloe and cool, wet towels. Lesson learned – the sun is, indeed, evil.
Erasing that painful memory with another beautiful view of the yacht club.
I got to go sailing for the first time ever! Matt’s uncle owns a Hobie Cat that we power-boated out to and took around the bay. I didn’t die. I consider that a win.
Afterwards we refueled with fried clam bellies – something my parental unit told me was a must on the east coast.
We also refueled with Uncle Dave’s famous fish tacos he grilled up at his house.
I hate coleslaw. This coleslaw made me a convert. Pardon my drool.
The next day was a ride out to Martha’s Vineyard. In case you didn’t know, there is no vineyard. I was thoroughly confused.
The Black Dog is THE place to go in Martha’s Vineyard. We waited almost two hours for a table and took advantage of the time to stroll through the town.
Mad Martha’s is also incredibly well-known. Matt and his family used to frequent there when they lived in MA.
Mother-son love.
FINALLY the wait was up!
Hash ‘n eggs with a gigantic bottomless coffee. Drool again.
And that evening it was time for even more food. The family brought over fresh clams which they steamed with beer, onions, celery and hot dogs.
I ate one. One and done…
Not a joint. Clam neck – in case of any confusion.
Clam pie – butter, clams, more butter, bread crumbs, butter, butter and bacon!
And then it was time for the massacre.
Twenty lobstas.
Twenty gigantic lobstas.
I couldn’t even finish my one – these things were out of control.
Luckily I had some guidance – very helpful after the painful attempt I made last time.
The sun was thankfully setting and a cool breeze was flowing through the yard. We all sat lazily with beer in hand until it was time to go watch some of the best fireworks I’d ever seen being fired from a barge about 100 yards off the beach. Pictures omitted because I was enjoying myself and pictures of fireworks are hard ‘n stuff.
Of course nothing went to waste – lobsta rolls the next day before we packed up and flew back!
Yet another amazing trip out east. Thank you to all of our wonderful hosts! I had an amazing time. Again.
Now to kick some post vacay blues butt.
