Staying in the (two bedroom, and her husband; her husband's sister and her son, my mom's 2nd sister and her two children and her husband, my mom's 6th sister, me. This isn't all that weird. When I was a kid, our (3-bedroom-turned-into-4-bedrooms-and-a-basement) house (pre-renovation; now it's bigger) held me, my brother, my mom and dad, my mom's 2nd (until she got married), 5th (until she got married), and 6th sisters (when I was really young, I think my mom's sisters #7 and #8 stayed with us also, and I think my dad's younger brother for a time, but memories of that period in my life are pretty fuzzy), and my mom's parents were also there half the time (and sometimes my dad's parents too).

This means that when I was 14 and learned that I would be sharing a tiny dormitory room with another girl for the next 3 years, my first reaction was "whoa! So much space and privacy!" And when I stepped into the hotel for POSSE and discovered that my room contained not just a bed and a bathroom (that I wasn't sharing with anybody!) but a little kitchenette, I was floored. That much square footage? Just for me? Whoa.

Today we're going to the Freedom Trail. Audrey (my 5-year-old cousin) is sitting on my lap, wearing a yellow hat. Audrey, would you like to write something? ("No.") Okay. Time to go to the Freedom Trail!