My parents picked me up at the train station yesterday afternoon (the first sunny and non-torrentially-raining day in the week is the day they're there to give me a ride--of course). They're back from the Berkshires for a bit, as A Prairie Home Companion isn't until Saturday. Due to the thunderstorms that have been rolling through, they've been doing outlet shopping and scouting for furniture, and picked up a safe beige curtain for the door to the deck. The room is no longer on display--huzzah!
We went out to dinner at the Lyceum Bar and Grill, which was excellent and in walking distance of the apartment. Did an after-dinner walk around the Common, and then went back home again.
It was an afternoon for people telling me stories, by the way. My dad, who, on the way home, confessed to removing the door to the deck and hanging up a shower curtain to keep the rain out ... NO. And then the host at the restaurant. Big ol' story-tellers.
On a television note, The Riches can be embarrassing to watch with one's parents. I don't recommend it.
Commuting is coming easily. I always manage to get a seat, and I'm starting to recognise the usual suspects who share my schedule.
There is something weird though. Standing in North Station, one might suddenly see a herd of people rush out to a platform that hasn't been announced. I can't figure out how they know it's their train. Because the rest of us stand and watch the line-up for the track announcement, and by the time we get out there, there are already a hundred people on board. And there's no apparent rhyme or reason to the thing, as the track is almost never the same one as the day before.
Is there a secret society with a decoder watch that announces the track number ten minutes before it appears on the board?
Chalk it up on the list of things to find out, I suppose.
Hooray! My internet is being installed tomorrow! Time to get a wireless router.
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