“Summer afternoon,
Summer afternoon,
To me those have always been
the two most beautiful words
In the English language.”
By Henry James
As long as it is not too hot, Hubby and I can get some work done around the house or yard. Yesterday he pulled up two tall weeds that we think were ragweed. He has the hose going quite often because we haven’t had a soaking rain. I am still trying to get the winter bedclothes washed and put away until they are needed in the fall.
***
The highlights of our summer season are the Dorothy Curran Wednesday Evening Concerts on City Hall Plaza. We were so sorry that the July 15 concert, with the City of Belfast Youth Orchestra, was cut short early in the evening by a sudden rainstorm. Our group fled City Hall Plaza to the safety of the bus that had brought us into town. We were disappointed that we were not able to hear the entire concert.
Last Wed. evening, July 29, a group of us, including daughter Sue and me, gathered in front of St. Brendan Church awaiting our bus for the second concert. (Hubby was home that evening because he was waiting for AAA to come to give our car “a jump.”) Eileen Collins, who organizes these trips, told us that some of our usual concert-goers had pulled out of going because it was so hot. It was in the 90s. We knew, from attending the concerts for many years, that City Hall Plaza has a wind tunnel that keeps the plaza a little cooler than the surrounding area, so we took the chance to go in town. The bus driver came right at 5:30 p.m. We all boarded the bus and down we drove to the Keystone Senior Apartments. Not too many seniors boarded the bus there. There is air-conditioning in Keystone so they were probably content to stay home.
As we started on the Expressway, the bus began to buck, just like a bronco. Sue looked at me and I, at her. “We are in trouble,” she mouthed to me. We advanced a little farther, bucking all the way. As we came parallel to South Bay, the driver eased the bus over to the guard rails along the side of the Expressway, where the bus died. Several people called 911 and told them of our plight. We were 18 mostly senior women on a disabled bus parked parallel to South Bay on the Expressway. Within a few short minutes, a State Police car pulled up behind us. The trooper put on his flashing lights and then came onto the bus. We could see, from his name tag, that he was Trooper Doyle. We figured he was from the State Police barracks in South Boston because he came to our aid so quickly.
The trooper went up and down the aisle, asking if each of us was feeling okay in this situation. We all said that we were. He opened the back door of the school bus to give us some air on that hot evening. The driver had pulled the bus to the side of the Expressway so close to the guard rails that he wouldn’t be able to open the front door to let us off easily if we had to leave the bus. The trooper got back in his cruiser and pushed our bus, with all of us inside, a little farther ahead so that the door was away from the guardrails (what a sensation that was!). We could get out of the bus if we had to.
The bus driver tried to re-start the bus and it started. The trooper rushed to get in front of us to clear the road and the bus slowly went ahead into the South Station Tunnel, with Trooper Doyle clearing the path for us with his sirens and lights. We all prayed that we would not have to stop inside the tunnel. Finally, we could see daylight ahead. We had almost made it, but the bus stalled as we started up the ramp to the street near City Hall. It had died again. The trooper thought that all of us could walk the 10 or so steps to the street so he protected us as we walked to the outside. We ended up on a traffic island and had to get across to the sidewalk. Trooper Doyle stopped traffic and ushered all of us over to the sidewalk where we were to wait for a new bus. He waited until the bus came and we were all aboard. We all thanked Trooper Doyle for his care and concern. He did everything he could to help us on that terribly hot evening. He was terrific.
***
When we arrived at City Hall Plaza, the photographer for the Elderly Commission, Eileen O’Connor, came over to us to see how we were doing after hearing of the bus problem. We told her how nice that State Trooper Doyle was. We were also proud of our bus driver, James, who had to deal with all the bus problems. He did a great job, too.
Our bus is usually one of the first to arrive at the concerts because we live fairly close to town. This evening, we arrived at 6:45 p.m. We were barely seated when the concert started. We know the group “Stardust” because they appear once each year in the series. The female lead singer had some of her family in the audience that evening. The group was just as good as they had been other years. They performed some wonderful songs to dance to or to sing along with all evening: “Shake Your Groove Thing,” “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough,” “ABC,” “I Want You Back,” “Ain’t Too Proud to Beg,” “I Want to Hold Your Hand,” “Living in America,” “That’s the Way I Like It” (I sang along with that one.), “Get Down Tonight” (with this one, also), “At Last,” and “Billie Jean.” (In my mind, I could see Michael Jackson dancing to that one.) We waited to board the bus until Stardust had performed all their songs. They were terrific. They had people from the very young to the very elderly up dancing. It was a great evening. This coming week, we will have Michael Dutra singing. He sounds just like Frank Sinatra. I look forward to that concert, also.
***
The next morning, we were up very early. Hubby and I had to be in Quincy because we were going on a bus trip to the Foxwoods Casino, a trip sponsored by the Irish Pastoral Centre. Daughter Sue drove us to Quincy because we weren’t sure if we had the correct bus location. The beautiful white bus came in and we all boarded it. It was almost full when we took off. It took about two hours to get to the casino. I remember the first 10 minutes of the trip. Then I was off in dreamland until we entered Connecticut. I had forgotten my Foxwoods card and had to go to a cashier to get a replacement. (I had mistakenly brought my Mohegan Sun card. I must remember to put on my glasses when I am getting my card so early in the morning.)
Hubby and I stayed upstairs on the non-smoking floor even though we had to walk through the smoking area when we first came into the casino. (I started to wheeze.) We finally found a few poker machines and began to play. I had trouble getting a “pay back.” A very nice woman worker helped me. She straightened out my machine. We don’t go to casinos very often so I had forgotten that I could not redeem the “free” money that had been given to me. When I did try to redeem the free money, the machine kept the $20 plus amount of free money and gave me a money receipt for 75¢. I was so shocked that I stopped playing. I should have read the rules before I played to refresh them in my mind.
After I botched my machine, Hubby and I decided to go to the buffet. The food was quite good. Hubby found the carving station for roast beef. Along with mashed potatoes and a lovely salad, he was quite happy. I first had a salad with no green vegetables. It was wonderful. Then I had little bits of some entrees, other than shellfish. The pasta with sauce was good. Daughter Sue knew I had had pasta when she spotted a couple of drops of marinara sauce on my dark blouse.
The rest of the afternoon, we just watched others. We sat down near Dunkin’ Donuts. We went down to the stores but didn’t go into any. We then went to the bus depot and sat watching people. That is always fun. We had a chance to chat with Doc Walsh. He told us his son Brian has been doing a great job in the family’s garden. We’ll get down to the Walsh home to see it some afternoon. It’s the one with the leprechaun statue among the plants. Our bus came along just about 4:45 p.m. We left Foxwoods at 5. I fell asleep as soon as we left the casino grounds and woke up when we got to Foxborough. I didn’t win any money but I did catch up on some lost sleep on the drive to and from the casino.
***
Here is a lovely thought from Charles Bowman: “Summertime is always the best of what might be.”
