Schoolmaster Hill

A woman walks all over me.
And I love every minute.

Every Thursday afternoon.
Before the kung pao chicken.

In Boston’s Chinatown.

But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Had a great time at the Athenaeum last evening.

The first social event held there in many a moon!
Seeing all those beautiful people chatting (and not mumbling).
With Prosecco and fine snacks?

Totally fabulous!

Still, it always seems a bit weird to me when I hear people talking in a library. (Not this guy, of course).

Maybe I’m just Old Skool.

Wanted to take a stroll before my 4pm rendezvous with destiny.
So I figured I would explore the Emerald Necklace.

Jamaica Pond is always calming.

And the Arnold Arboretum has delightful plants.

My only problem? I love to sniff them.
But my substantial schnozzola might get stung.

What the hell! These lilies were exquisite.

Franklin Park is, quite frankly, enormous.

Which is why, on my previous trips there, I have never managed to find Schoolmaster Hill.
But I did this time.

This is where Ralph Waldo Emerson lived for a few years while he taught at a girls’ school in Roxbury.

They have preserved the foundations of the house, which was destroyed by fire.

A great spot!

He lived here long before he became the famed essayist.

And eminent New England sage.

“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.” 

I think I could groove to that.

(I believe that’s Essays, Second Series).

It was a long walk, but I managed to get home.
Via Roxbury Hills, Nubian Square and Malcolm X Boulevard.
(Rollin’ with the homies.)

Took a brief nap.
Then over to Chinatown.

Hello, Bill!

Here is my new go-to bakery.

Sweet!

I will find the best place for kung pao chicken.
In all of Chinatown. Starting with this joint.

Could take a while.

And now for the main event. 
OK, People! I’m going in.

And beg for mercy.