Thar She Blows

It's been over a week since I left my brood in Idaho and I have noticed a pattern:  I'm an emotional wreck for a week, then I settle into my Rhode Island routine where I feel almost normal, then I wait for my next visit to my family to ruin me emotionally again.

To make things worse, I'm obsessing about the house I'd like to own here, so it doesn't help that my home in Idaho still isn't sold.  To combat my helplessness, I decided to do some worshipping at the LDS Boston Temple:

It was lovely, peaceful, and calmed down the inner turmoil I feel almost constantly these days.  I felt like I was bargaining with God in a way; begging him to bless me since I was worshipping in the holiest place I have available to me.  I considered promising to stop swearing in exchange for an offer on my house, but I'm not ready to change that much, so the battle rages I guess.  

After the temple, I knew I was close to the Minute Man National Historic Park, so I decided to swing on over and check it out.  On the way, I managed to find this delicious steak sandwich shop that served me a "small" chipotle steak sammy that weighed more than Bubba.  Here I am crying tears of joy over their tasty fries...

And 15 minutes later, crying tears of agony over my discomfort in consuming a sandwich that big...

I also shed extra tears since I couldn't finish the fries and sandwich and had to throw the remainder away.  I'm a committed hippy and throwing food away bugs me to death.  I'm also a committed eater and throwing food away feels like a failure.  Needless to say, my soul died a little dumping that piece of art in the trash.

I thought the food waste crime was going to be the low point of my day, but I underestimated how awful I would feel in 80+ humid weather with a gut full of spicy beef.  It was downright awful.  I felt like a poor bloated whale with very sweaty crevices, and sure wished I was back in New Bedford where they would know what to do with a languishing whale!

In an attempt to work off the steak sandwich debacle, I walked a goodly portion of the Battle Road.  I had no idea it was where Paul Revere's Midnight Ride ended.  I also didn't know it was the start of the Revolutionary War.  Where have I been?!  Listen, I don't know!  I sent incredulous texts with lots of swears to people who wouldn't judge me about my ignorance, but they didn't know most of the information either!  Holy cow was I embarrassed!  However, I got over it quickly since it was so cool to learn about Paul Revere again since I just recently saw the North Church in Boston.

Speaking of Paul Revere, I found this lady working out on purpose on the site of his capture.  It was almost as if she wanted to rub in my intestinal discomfort as well as my poor tolerance of humidity:

Why in the world would anyone do push-ups on purpose in this hot, muggy weather?!  I wanted to beat her up, but my stomach hurt so bad and my pulse was racing so fast, I had to hurry out of her sight so she wouldn't see my shame:

I'm practically dying here!  I felt horrible!  Thankfully I muscled on a little longer, then hoofed back to the visitor center to watch a cool movie about the whole Battle Road story while my belly of cow finally finished digesting.

Despite some setbacks, my day was not wasted because I learned three important facts today:

1.  The Revolutionary War started on the Battle Road on the way to Concord, Massachusetts, not "somewhere on the east coast" as I previously thought.

2.  The humidity on the east coast is overwatering my desicated western soul.  Surely it will kill me soon!

3.  Eat your giant steak sandwich AFTER walking the Battle Road you idiot...

Although these three lessons were tough to learn, there is one spiritual truth that trumps all:  a diet fountain soda rights all wrongs...