On a cold December day...

...the day after Christmas 2011, in fact, we flew into Boston. We went from Texas weather of 50-something

My hubby getting acclimated to Boston
weather, while we wait for my sis to pick us up
at Logan Airport.

degrees to a brisk 25 or so. My poor hubby, a stranger in a strange land, gathered a few looks when he slipped on his Dallas Cowboys pullover jacket after we claimed our luggage at Logan.

We went to celebrate a late Christmas with my family -- I'll never forget the look of surprise on my mother's face when she walked into my sister's spare bedroom and found us there! -- and I also seized the opportunity to visit New Bedford, the setting of Tempest's Course.

Behind every book is a stack of research, and sometimes a heroic spouse willing to go along for the ride.

Which C.J. did, a few days after Christmas, when we borrowed my sister's car and drove to New Bedford for the day.

Google can make planning trips to places you've never been a lot easier, so I went armed with my list of places to visit. That, and good gloves and scarves. The day was sunny, but temperatures that day only reached 32 degrees. Add that to a breeze coming off the harbor and it even made the locals shiver!

C.J. looked less than thrilled when I told him we were parking in the parking garage and walking a block to the historic district. We found it easily by the cobblestone streets, and warmed up with a visit to the New Bedford Whaling National Historic Park. He loves history as much as I do, so we immersed ourselves in New Bedford of the past while we thawed out.

Then we kept strolling through the historic district, taking photos of the Seaman's Bethel and other notable sites. I didn't go to the New England Whaling Museum, although the idea was tempting.

This Cowboys fan wore a New England
Patriots hat. This is how cold he was!

On a side street, we found a delightful little place called Destination Soups, where I had some delicious clam chowder. I don't recall what C.J. had, but he enjoyed the food and warmth. A few locals struck up a conversation when they saw his jacket and his hat. The hat, of course, wasn't his, but borrowed from our brother-in-law.

Finally, this merciful wife suggested we head back to the car and find the Rotch-Jones-Duff house.

"Does this mean we'll be indoors?" he asked.

I assured him that yes, we would be.

Hats off to my southern hubby and being such a good sport as his wife dragged him around in the cold, outside, in December, all for the sake of a book.