I Suck At Kimball Farm

In an act of spontaneity, Karen and I visited the great city of Lowell on Sunday. After all, as the saying goes... there is a lot to like about Lowell. I'm not exactly sure what there is to like yet, but I'm sure some day I will find out.

If you like marching bands and all of that, Sunday in Lowell would have been right up your alley. It turns out that the Massachusetts Instrumental and Choral Conductors Association (MICCA) was having an event in Lowell. Karen and I happened to stumble upon MICCA on our spontaneous trek to visit Karen's cousin (Karlene) and Karlene's husband (Tommy).

Karen and I decided to visit Karlene and Tommy since we had not seen them in quite some time. The spontaneous visit included lunch (or as Karen, Karlene and Tommy referred to it as... dinner... even though it was at 1pm). Lunch/Dinner was good. Karen and I brought a roast for lunch. As an interesting side note, Karen and I also learned how to make gravy. Neither one of us have ever made gravy from scratch. It seemed like a rather simple process. Maybe we'll be able to duplicate it some time.

Following lunch/dinner, the four of us headed to Westford. What is in Westford? None other than Kimball Farm. (See, even people who live in Lowell leave Lowell for ice cream.)

Now, I suck at Kimball Farm. I have not had their ice cream in quite some time. I must say, I do enjoy their home made ice cream. It is so delicious. (Cue Rachael Ray's "Yum-O" sound.) In fact, Kimball's might be my gold standard for ice cream.

Anyway, it turns out that Sunday was the last day the ice cream stand was going to be opened. Apparently, after a certain date, the Kimball Farm stops making ice cream and sells as much of its inventory as it can. Being the last day of the ice cream stand, the flavors were very limited.

I, however, was lucky enough to have the apple crisp with ice cream. It was very delicious. And with the dollar off all items on its last day, it became very reasonably priced. It was so good.

The only drawback, however, of the Kimball Farm experience on Sunday was... well... another patron and his proximity to my personal space. While waiting in line, I looked behind me and was surprised to see some gentleman... right behind me. Literally, right behind me.

Thinking nothing of it at first, I stepped forward a little in line. That was big mistake number 1. Unfortunately, my act of moving forward only made the gentleman behind me move forward... and closer to me.

Thinking it was just my imagination, I looked at the other lines of patrons... measuring the distance between the people as they waited in line. I then overtly looked back to measure the distance between me and this gentleman. Had this been prison, I would have been afraid to drop the soap.

Anyway, I even elbowed the gentleman behind a couple of times. My elbowing was not on purpose. It was hard not to elbow him because he was that close to me. Naturally, I thought that perhaps that would give some indication on the physical distance between us. Sadly... the gentleman did not catch on.

I was not the only one who noticed the whole physical space thing. Karen, Karlene, and Tommy also had a little experience with the gentleman. Eventually, we got our ice cream and left the line.

I'm big on space. I guess that's why I like to sprawl out on any given couch. All in all, Kimball's was fun. Thinking about the absurdity of the situation makes me chuckle.

Needless to say, it was a good time... being spontaneous and all. Although truth be told, it was not that spontaneous. The spontaneous plans were actually for Saturday, but Karlene and Tommy had other plans on Saturday. As they were busy, the plans were changed to Sunday. But it was all good.

Oh yes. The other noteworthy thing for Sunday was the ride home. In what is yet another reason not to like Lowell: traffic from Lowell to Norwell. Traffic was awful. It took forever to get home.

Karen and I experienced something similar when we were being spontaneous and visited my BFF (Kerry) in Salem one day... which also happened to be on a Sunday. Perhaps Karen and I should not be spontaneous on Sundays... or perhaps we should not drive north of Boston on Sundays. Stupid traffic.