Relative Something

It is Sunday. We pack our things and head to the airport, leaving Cyndie with her one-bedroom apartment all to herself again. I get to go home, but alone.

We’ve had a wonderful time here, hosted in large part by Cyndie’s brother, Barry. Yesterday he drove us to Faneuil Hall marketplace and we heard a huge group of tuba players perform Christmas music. We toured Cyndie’s workplace to see her office and walked up to the water of Boston Harbor. It has been beautiful weather in Boston this weekend. We walked around without coats yesterday.