The Homestead

The Homestead, Amherst MA

Often when I drive between New York and Boston I'll take a short detour to either Northampton or Amherst, usually Northampton.  Since I stopped to see the Friendly Giant of Chicopee, Amherst was easier to get to on this trip.

One highlight of Amherst is the Homestead, the house Emily Dickinson lived in for almost her entire life.  The house is modest-looking from the front but it is a mansion that's a lot deeper than it is wide.  It is a short walk down Main Street from the center of town, where I had parked.

That was the longest two-block walk I had ever taken.  By the time I got to the house I was gasping for air.  This was the low point of not feeling well and I spent a long lunch debating whether to find an urgent care facility, return to New York, or continue on to Boston.

I saw my doctor a couple of days ago and I'm either allergic to tree pollen or have bronchitis.  He diagnosed the latter when I went into a violent coughing fit in the examining room.  I'm pleased to say I went for a five-mile walk today with no coughing episodes.

Anyway, Amherst is a picturesque college town, and I wish I had taken more pictures, but I mostly just sat at the Black Sheep Deli and contemplated what to do next and also wondered why Amherstians (Amherstites?  Amherstipuddlians?) flock to the Black Sheep as the two times I've been there my sandwiches have been mediocre at best.

Comments

[judy Petrie]

You left your bronchitis in Boston.

[Joe]

Sorry! I hope you all aren't too ill.