The Bees' Knees

 Exactly three years ago I wrote an elbow-appreciation post. I had weeded in short sleeves and developed painful poison-ivy rashes on both inner elbows. For several days I couldn’t bend my arms. I realized I had taken my arm joints for granted for 61 years.

Now I must discuss knees. On Memorial Day I worked creating a raised garden bed with Conor, the teenage boy I’ve hired as a gardener, and Caleb, Jim’s nephew. We worked for over four hours, digging trenches and installing a border of pavers. I was in constant motion, kneeling and standing back up. By the end of the session, my left knee, a problem since high school, could hardly tolerate weight and I limped into the house.

For the next several days I rested, careful not to twist the knee. I took the stairs one step at a time. My mom taught me the drill: down with the bad, up with the good. (This puts all the stress on the healthy knee.) But then I got careless and on Friday I was in worse pain than ever.

Monday was frustrating. I had to go up and down two flights of stairs multiple times with laundry baskets. It was so tedious. But I stayed true to my resolve to care for my knee. Down with the bad, up with the good. The tedium paid off: today I have no pain. I even ventured out for a two-mile walk on the Battle Road in Lincoln.

Speaking of the Battle Road (preserved in the Minuteman National Historical Park in Lexington, Lincoln, and Concord): on April 19th, Patriots' Day, I completed my walking Paul Revere's ride (having walked from Paul Revere's house in Boston to Lexington the Saturday before). That Monday I started at Lexington's Hancock-Clarke House, and followed Mass Ave to the old Battle Road. There's a curving stone wall at Revere's Capture Site, where Revere was nearly shot and the British patrol confiscated his borrowed horse. From there, in the early morning hours of April 19, 1775, Revere walked back to the Lexington Green where the Battle of Lexington was about to erupt. He walked in the pre-dawn; I walked at dusk. I'm grateful for knees.

Patriots' Day 1775

Our missionaries asked me to write up a description of Patriots' Day for their Church of Jesus Christ Cambridge Facebook page.

At about 10:15 p.m. on the evening of April 18, 1775, Paul Revere left his home in the North End of Boston and walked to his rowboat, hidden under a wharf. With muffled oars, two co-patriots rowed him across the harbor to Charlestown, within sight of the British Navy’s warship, The Somerset. He had earlier instructed another patriot to hang two lanterns in the steeple of the Old North Church: ‘two if by sea,’ after he learned from an informant that the army was planning a surprise assault that night. In Charlestown, Revere borrowed a horse and set off on his main objective: to warn Samuel Adams and John Hancock in Lexington that the ‘Regulars’ were marching to Lexington to capture them (and have them hung for treason.) Revere would never have cried out, “The British are coming,” he and the American colonists considered themselves British and were fighting for what they believed were their rights as English freemen.

 Revere was nearly captured by two ‘regulars’ in Charlestown. He successfully eluded them and changed his course to ride through modern-day Medford (Mystic) and Arlington (Menotomy). He reached Lexington without further incident, woke Hancock and Adams, and headed to Concord to warn the townspeople that the army’s second order was to capture the hidden munitions in their town.

Outside Lexington, Revere was surrounded by ten armed officers.

 “If you go an inch further you are a dead man!” one man cried.

The redcoats took Revere’s horse and left him to walk the three miles back to Lexington.

 

In Lexington, the redcoats arrived at dawn and were met on the Green (now known as the Battlegreen) by Lexington militia, armed and ready to bar their way. A shot went off, to this day it is debated by whom, and the tired redcoats started firing without orders. The militiamen returned fire and when the smoke cleared, eight colonists lay dead.

 The regulars continued to Concord, where the sought-for munitions had been carefully hidden among the houses of the town. About 100 regulars met an armed band of about 400 militiamen at the North Bridge. A firefight ensued and the redcoats fell back from the bridge to rejoin their main body.

 All day long, militiamen streamed towards the retreating army, coming from towns as far as forty miles away.

 Arriving back in Lexington, having endured attacks by militiamen all along the road, the beleaguered army met Lord Percy and reinforcements from Boston. From there, fierce fighting continued on the long march back to Boston. The troops were exhausted from their thirty-mile midnight march through a hostile countryside filled with ringing church bells, alarming the inhabitants of their ‘secret’ mission. Boston lay another ten-mile march away. In Menotomy (now Arlington), 5000 minutemen met the retreating troops. Lord Percy ordered a house-to-house search for snipers and the regulars ransacked houses and set some on fire.

  After the redcoats arrived back in Boston, militiamen successfully blockaded the narrow neck of land that connected Boston to the mainland, effectively laying siege to Boston and the occupying army. Less than a year later, the British army and navy left Boston peaceably on March 17, 1776. To this day, Boston schoolchildren enjoy a holiday, not for St. Patrick’s Day, but for Evacuation Day.

 

Boston saw no further action in the ensuing war, though many of its militiamen joined the Continental Army and fought valiantly for their independence.

Walking Paul Revere's Ride

    The other day, Jim walked to his barbershop in Lexington Center. He stopped at the Visitors’ Center and bought some history cards and a map of Paul Revere’s ride.

I had noticed that map last fall on a visit and was thrilled with his purchase.

Monday, Jim left for a 12-day road trip with his brother Jeff. Jeff’s wife, Nelly, died November 28. Jim and Jeff are both vaccinated, so the planned road trip (Salt Lake City to San Francisco and Seattle) commenced.

That afternoon, I walked the Minuteman Bike path to the historic Bedford Depot. I wandered around, finding the trailhead of the Concord Reformatory Trail and the Small-gauge Railway to Billerica. I passed by the Bedford Flag statue, my friend Brian's favorite monument.

In all, I walked 9.27 miles in under 3 hours.

I had spent Monday morning planning a bigger adventure: walking the length of Paul Revere’s ride. Tuesday morning I took an MBTA bus for the first time in well over a year, and the Red Line subway to North Station. I walked to Rachel and Paul Revere’s house in the North End and struck out for Lexington. I kept a comfortable pace, just under a 3-minute mile, and stopped for pictures of historic markers.

A detour to “Grandfather’s House” in Medford was delightful. It's a large Greek Revival house with imposing white columns. Tufts University owns the property and, yes, it is right on the Mystic River. There are even a few trees, though I'd hardly call it a woods.

I accidently got off High Street and walked over a mile longer than Paul’s ride. I’m usually a stickler for detail, but when I discovered my error, nearly 10 miles into the trek, I decided to press forward. Luckily I wasn't responsible to alert the residents of Medford's High Street between Woburn and Playstead Streets.

It was a delightful day, overcast and cool (48 degrees) to start, but the clouds lifted and much of the way was in complete sunshine. By walking, I got a real sense of the land and what Paul would have experienced (or rather, what the borrowed horse did).

The toughest section was climbing the glaciar-created Winter Hill in Somerville. The drumlin (an egg-shaped feature shaped by clay mounding under a glacier) has changed little since the 1630s, when Winter Hill Road was established (now called Broadway). Little geological change, but very different habitations and businesses.

    I saw no evidence of the “Winter Hill gang,” which was established in 1955 and, according to Wikipedia, is active in organized crime to this day. One of its most infamous members, Whitey Bulger, went into hiding in 1994 and was apprehended in Santa Monica, California in 2011. He was convicted of many crimes, including complicity in 19 murders.

           My feet started to get pretty sore around mile 13. A half-marathon is 13.1 miles and I've walked that distance many times. Last April 18th, I walked 16.59 miles in a 'virtual' half-marathon: a circuit to Bedford, Concord, Lincoln, and Lexington, including about 8 miles on the Battle Road in Concord.

    Now I've done 17.

Making the bed

I missed my blog deadline last week. The third Monday in April is a state holiday in Massachusetts and Maine, to commemorate the Battles of Lexington and Concord. Three-tenths of a mile from our house is the Lexington Battlegreen, where His Majesty’s troops meet the local militia of Lexington. Each year the battle is re-enacted. We open our acre yard for friends, and friends of friends, and anyone who has the least connection to us, for parking. One year we parked 60 cars, and no cars were blocked. This year the forecasted rain lowered our attendance: we parked only 30 cars and hosted about 100 people for breakfast.

Yesterday I walked into our guestroom and had a magical experience. The bed was so neatly made I thought I had stepped into a five-star hotel. The cotton comforter was as smooth as satin. Jim’s cousin was our guest Friday night. He’s a former Air Force pilot and it shows. I was touched by the care he took in the simple act of making the bed.

As I sit here writing, a “Christmas” cactus that decided to bloom for Easter gracefully bends towards my laptop screen. The blossoms are an improbably rich pink. The purple hyacinth I picked this morning perfume the kitchen.

Patriots' Day 2018

Yesterday, the third Monday in April, Massachusetts and Maine celebrated Patriots' Day. The Lexington Minutemen held their annual reenactment of the Battle of Lexington.

As has been our tradition since 2003, Jim and I invited people to park on our property. Our yard is the perfect place to park and walk to the Battle Green, where colonists gathered and awaited the arrival of the red-coated army early in the morning of April 19, 1775. Our Sunday night was very cold and full of sleet. By 4:00 a.m. it had changed to heavy rain and, as expected, we had a small  turnout: 30 cars. (We have the capacity to park 65.) 

At 3:30 a.m. I was in the kitchen, making 2 gallons of hot cocoa and preparing for our breakfast guests. The reenactment takes place at 5:30 a.m., as did the actual battle. However,as a concession to the modern American custom, we now celebrate Patriots’ Day as a Monday holiday.

Despite the rain, about 100 people came for breakfast. They carefully wiped their shoes, so the floors hardly got wet at all.

I’ve been thinking of our history with David. By Patriots’ Day in 2014, David had been at Walter Reed Military Medical Center for 27 days. He didn't tell us not to go, so we returned home for Patriots' Day. Jim posted a picture in the living room of David, smiling and sitting up in his hospital bed.

By 2015, David was living at home and very sick. The stem cell transplant had failed over 10 months before. We went ahead with the breakfast. In 2016, we had the first Patriots’ Day without him. Matt ran the Boston Marathon later that day, raising money for the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society. Since 1897, the Boston Marathon has been held on Patriots' Day. (The first modern marathon was run in Greece just the year before.) Last year, R'el ran for LLS.

It's a relief to have the Patriots’ Day breakfast over. I enjoyed it, but the preparation and execution takes a lot of time and energy. It’s pleasant to be one of the ‘old-timers’, sharing a bit of town and national history with people who are interested enough to arrive at our yard between 4:00 and 5:00 a.m. It’s also pleasant to take a nap in the afternoon and then savor a full night’s sleep.