Being a working stiff, Saturdays are usually filled with chores unless we have a family event to attend or some other scheduled activity that occupies most of the day. It is a rare Saturday that we just lounge around. And an even rarer Saturday when we get out of the house and spend the afternoon meandering.
Such was July 12, 2014. We had plans, of a sort. The idea was to attend Littleton’s Town Picnic, part of the series of events marking Littleton’s tercentennial – its 300th birthday party. Our initial plans called for us getting granddaughter Liliani for the day, but due to my softball schedule (which meant I would not get home until 1pm) and Lili’s softball schedule (and end-of-season pool party), we were without child.We went anyway. The event turned out to be – surprise – a town picnic. Nothing more. Lots of people sitting around on blankets eating homemade sandwiches. Nary a food vendor in sight. Unless we wanted to join in the wheelbarrow races (Jett declined), there was really nothing for us there.
We did enjoy the scarecrows. I don’t know what significance scarecrows have in Littleton’s history, but they were everywhere. Who made them and why? Dunno. But there were some nice ones.
So after spending just 30 minutes at the picnic we were left in the unexpected position of having an afternoon free and nothing to do. We needed lunch, but it was a beautiful day, so we started heading east on MA 119 with the idea of finding a cafe along the way. Or ending up in Concord which we knew had some good dining spots.
We didn’t see anything interesting on 119 and so ended up on downtown Concord and found a parking spot right in the middle of the historic downtown area. Concord is a small town, so “downtown” comprises a city block, with a few shops down a couple of side streets. The “historic” comes from its association with some pretty famous 19th century authors (Ralph Waldo Emerson, Henry David Thoreau, Louisa May Alcott – you couldn’t write in Concord unless you had 3 names) and an attempt by those pesky Redcoats to capture some arms stored there at the start of the Revolutionary War. Now it is a quintessential upscale New England town, complete with a town common surrounding by white churches. And lots of little shops selling upscale items to upscale visitors. The only upscale items we bought were miniature porcelain figurines of a monkey and a dolphin (don’t ask). We then found a coffee place – Haute Coffee (get it?) that also served some very interesting sandwiches. I had one made with imported ham, imported cheese and homemade bread that was outstanding. It tasted as good as it looked. And we dined in a room that was straight out of the 17th century, with hand-hewn beams and a stone fireplace. The place was WAY more interesting that the Starbucks that we passed to get there. We then meandered down to Maynard, a town that is just as old as Concord but lacks the cachet. It was a working-class town with nary an author to its credit (detractors would say that no one there could write their names, much less a book or a poem). But Jett, who CAN write a poem, spent some time there in her younger days and wanted to see how the town was faring without her.Not well, apparently. While Concord was bustling on a beautiful Saturday afternoon, the streets of Maynard were nearly deserted. Most shops were closed, which I found shocking. Very sad.
We meandered up MA 27 to Acton, then back to Littleton. I had thought of visiting Ayer, but Jett was tired, so we called it a day.
A very nice day.