I just said farewell to Molly at Logan, where her flight to Madrid leaves later this afternoon. She was anxious about leaving, but her parents and I assured her that the human organ trade in Spain is declining from its late '90s peak and that the recent Liam Neelson flick "Taken" was based on actual events in Paris, not Madrid. We spent the previous week shopping and preparing for our trips. The biggest challenge, however involved the overhaul of our wardrobes to match the latest European fashions; the Soviet block states are a far cry from Nantucket or St. Lawrence. I'm still having a hard time with the tight jeans, capris, and V-necks.
Molly spends three weeks with a host family in Segovia, a rural town outside the capital. After orientation and acclimating to the pace of life and all the cultural differences, she moves back to Madrid for three months with a different host family in the heart of the city. As a Spanish major, it should be an awesome experience for her to not only explore Europe for the first time, but to use her language background. Although her cousin convincingly recounted a TIME Magazine article that talked about European host families misperceiving their student-guests as a cheap source of manual labor, her departure from Boston was smooth. Her time with us all in Duck last summer was probably a good cultural exercise; Dicky is undoubtedly more obnoxious (and hairier) than any sleazy Spanish man she might encounter. Poor Molly...
Molly with her two dogs, Cinco and Maddie (who she'll probably miss more than her family), a few days before her trip.
Below are a few pictures from my summer:
A group of Larries on a Nantucket beach for the fourth of July.
My mom and I in front of Sankaty Head Lighthouse on Nantucket. She came with several friends for an afternoon to visit me, but they were more excited about the dozens of shops and boutiques.
Molly and I at the Duprey's cabin on Aziscohos Lake in Northern Maine. We spent four days there with her family, which was a nice change of pace from the bustle of Nantucket.
Molly and I preparing the potato cannon to fire (at her younger brother who was kayaking on the lake below as her mother and grandmother watch with approval). In between kayaking, swimming, shooting vegetable projectiles, clay pigeons off the beach, and a competitive Monopoly game, it was an amazement that we ever found the time to relax and enjoy the beauty and seclusion of the lake.
