The weather did cooperate and Saturday found us back in Laconia.  JeanPaul said he wanted to take me to Boston to see the Spanish sail boat docked in Boston Harbor and then we would ride out to the beach.  We worked hard all day Saturday and by 4 p.m. we were loading up the bike for our ride.

“Off to Boston?”, I queried.

“Well, I was thinking – wanna ride to Laconia?”, he asked.

“Sure.”

We pulled the bike into the dirt parking lot next to Weirs Beach.  By some incredible coincidence, the parking attendant was a lady from my scrapbooking class.  I dress like a nun, most of the time – my spotty disease causes me to wear skirts and ugly orthopedic shoes – so I think she was quite surprised to see me (of all people)  jump off the bike.  Most people who know me casually are quite surprised by it.

Anyway, Laconia did not disappoint.  Lots of ladies wearing leather chaps with little else, others wearing little else, period.  Many who should actually have been wearing more than they were.  We ate sausage subs while we watched the parade of jiggly parts and motorcycles.  When we were leaving, we drove up the strip and headed for home.  JeanPaul had seen the parade and was content.