Weekend with friends in metro Boston capped off a beautiful vacation. Today I am in Henrietta, NY about 200 miles from Stratford, Ontario, where tomorrow I will see Macbeth at the Shakespeare Theater. Here’s how I got here.
Said good-bye to Sheepscot River lodging mid-day on Friday.

Had fantastic bluefish dinner with John and Beverly Shank and Caryl Skow, Bev’s mother. This is John and Bev’s house, and it will soon be for sale, if anyone is interested.

Caryl joined Margaret and me (pictured here) and Helen (taking the picture) at the Red Sox game on Saturday. Big Papi tied the game with a triple in the eighth and won it with a double in the eleventh inning. The legend grows. Crazy celebration. No one wanted to go home.

If you use your imagination you’ll see Papi Ortiz surrounded by team mates on second base following his game-winning double.

On Sunday I finally witnessed the glorious renovations at First Presbyterian, Cambridge. This is a basement Sunday School/ Little Folks Fellowship space.

Here is the elevator that connects three floors. This was a long-time dream of Kathy’s. I’m sorry she didn’t see it. Wishing that she does.

Here is the new kitchen, also in the basement. Dozens of once and future cooks breathe a sigh of relief at this modernization.

Today I left John and Bev’s at 9:00 a.m., destination Henrietta, NY, near Rochester. This is just a place within shooting distance of Stratford, Ontario.
Then I had the impulse to visit my alma mater, Hamilton College. Exams were over and graduation is next weekend. Here is the obligatory shot of Alexander Hamilton.

Here is the new Nesbitt-Johnston Writing Center. Even though it was closed, I received a tour by the gracious Dori Fratelli, adm assistant. Dr. Tom Johnston was my academic advisor and professor of two of my classes at Hamilton. Often merged in our memories with the illustrious Samuel Johnson.

Obligatory shot of the Hamilton College Chapel, where many consequential meetings were held, not to mention church services. I remember my first Quaker service there, among other representative worship traditions. The dean happened to be Quaker, but the school has Presbyterian roots.

Writing this from the Red Roof Inn at Henrietta. By tomorrow night I expect to be home, but not without seeing Macbeth commit a few murders.