One miserable morning

It started off by being rather cold, not cold as cold goes in Boston, but cold enough to cause a mild fit of cursing. I set off, camera in hand to Boston's North End. The quest of course was the battleship - The USS Constitution. She was lying to where they had tied her up and was scrubbed to shine like a new penny. Naval personnel of all ranks were gathered in and around her, proudly saluting the flag that hung over her stern and then turning to salute the senior most officer on board that morning.

I stood there mulling that Old Ironsides was home. It must have been that way for a number of sailors who had, aboard her, swabbed the decks and fired off her cannon. The helm was shining. Somehow, squeaky clean wasn't the phrase that leapt to mind when I looked over the line of cannon. One youngster was on board in period costume, most probably a volunteer, she looked too young to be in the Navy but then again what do I know. Her face shone in her earnestness when you asked a question about the ship. She knew her history all right.
The ship's bell was another attraction. I longed to own it and knew enough to be aware of its price in the market. Authentic and definitely not the kind of silverware you're likely to have at your table.
Sadly, my time on board Old Ironsides wasn't enough for me to go below decks along with the tour but, I will, one of these weekends and you can certainly look out for more photographs and perhaps a better write up than this patchy piece of writing.
There is another side to my story of the miserable morning that I enjoyed in Boston but that must wait till I can get around to penning it down.

Like I always say, good couch potatoes know how the story is best kept a mystery till it's time.