We Don't Know How to Relax
here--and I estimate we walked twelve miles Saturday morning-- before we snagged the last two bar stools in the pub, where we planned to watch the game and then head back to the historical area to nap and have dinner, but the bar visit turned epic as well, because, coincidentally, a student of mine from a decade ago turned out to be the bartender, so we were fronted many drinks and five hours later we were stumbling to our dinner reservation, at an Italian place called La Locanda del Ghiottone . . . the place of the gluttons . . . and when we woke up Sunday morning, it was mildly epic to get home, I do NOT recommend taking the SEPTA to Trenton-- it stops everywhere-- so it took us two and a half hours to get back to New Brunswick, and then we had to clean the house and cook for Ian's fifth birthday-- so we were quickly plunged back into reality.