Last night at Fenway Park. Beautiful evening, and then the Blue Jays humiliated the young pitchers brought up from the Paw Sox, and finally the rains came, huge sheets of water drenching the field.
Notice the sign says "Welcome Natick Writer's Group to Fenway Park."
We dined and wined and chatted and even watched the sad game. Youk hit a couple homers which definitely livened things up.
At the park, you get to hear all the cool (hot) music that you never hear on television because there is always a commercial.
Fenway Park rocks, and in three years, the park will celebrate it's 100th birthday. Yowza! The incredible energy--when Papelbon comes in to save the game in the 9th inning it's like the large defining moment, with the Drop Kick Murphys belting out "I'm Shipping Up to Boston."
The Natick Writer's Group segued from Wellesley to Natick when the bookstore closed. I named a cat Cyrano after the bookstore cat. Mine was fictional. That book, Promiscuous Mode, still hasn't sold, the one the Natick Writer's Group liked best. Less cerebral than the others.
A thinky person writes a thinky book. A feely person writes a feely book. Whatcha gonna do?
A decisive person writes a decisive book. TDF! Oh yeah.
I am so far behind in my tasks that I may never get caught up. Oh, sure, eventually.