It's Friday, and neither Dad nor I want to cook. We're all headed to Bennington for some fine dining at Bat's Italian Restaurant. I love it, because I've been going there since I was 6. Also, because it is located next to a dam, and has no compunctions about using the slogan, "Best Food by a Dam Site". You gotta respect that. Lastly, some of my favorite, "I can't take you anywhere" lectures happened there as a child, along with my father's counterpoint lessons on how to lick your plate clean in public after eating spumoni ice cream. I don't know if it's on any Zaggat's "Culinary Highlights of NH" lists, but I love it.
We also visited the Hopkinton Cemetery, c.1765, in search of the grave of the Revolutionary War soldier who they say fired the Shot Heard Round the World. We didn't find anyone marked as such, and unfortunately any google searches on the topic only bring up the time that Michelle Bachmann congratulated New Hampshire on being the state where it happened. Which is ok, because that was awesome.
This afternoon we went to the lake and saw a loon, and also one of those birds that dives underwater a long way to get fish. One of the two is pictured here in his pontoon boat, which was blaring, "Please Come to Boston" (you know, she's the #1 Fan of the Man from Tennessee) as it puttered along the shore. As he got farther away, I think I heard enough to conclude that he was listening to Time Life's "Singer/Songwriter's of the 70s" collection, which should make me like him more cause I own it. But I'm pretty sure there is a law about blaring anything other than James Taylor on a pine-fringed New Hampshire lake in August.
Our friend Cooper accompanied us to the lake. He and Griffin found several abandoned fish hooks (yay for water shoes) and rigged up a makeshift pole, pictured here. Another boy helped them out by finding a slug in the woods, which, along with half of the hook, was promptly consumed by something under the water. It was very exciting.
Sarah & the littlest Dedmon boys.