Category Archives: Cape Cod

Don’t. Stop. Believing.

imageEvery year when it is time to drive west from wherever we happen to be on Cape Cod, I don’t want to leave. It doesn’t matter how much I miss my own home or that I already have a place booked for the following summer – I don’t want my beach time to be finished. As I approach the Sagamore Bridge I reliably feel my eyes fill with tears, which I don’t release, of course. I don’t need to further convince my kids that I’m getting soft in my middle years.

Each and every time I run through my neighborhood I witness cars running red lights. I’m not even talking about lights that are stale yellow, I mean lights that changed to red while the approaching car was at least a half block away. Red light cameras? Yes, please! People need to learn how to stop.

I am at the point in parenting when I very soon will have a household of boys who no longer indulge me by believing in any of the wonders of childhood. No tooth fairy, no Easter rabbit, no Santa Claus. All done. I’m taking a final shot later this month when my youngest and I head to a most magical place – Disney World. I’m hopeful that Quinn will be impressed by something there – the rides, the fireworks, the characters, and decide that believing is sometimes worth the suspension of reality. Dreams can still come true, right?

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Filed under Albany, Boys, Cape Cod, Local, musings, Observations, running, vacation

On the beach…

…there’s sand.  Grains and grains of sand.  Because of this condition, this year I committed to taking only paperback books to the beach.  I mean, really, when it comes to reading at the beach, something I can finally do now that my boys are older, the paperback is the only way to go.

There are a couple of books which left a big impression upon me when I first read them many years ago.  I decided to revisit them to see if they still would move me after so many years had gone past.

I started with Hemingway’s  A Moveable Feast.  When I first read it, I was an undergraduate infatuated with the romance of Europe and expatriates.  Two of those three have not changed.  Reading it last week,  I was once again  transported to Paris, witnessing the cafe life of some of America’s finest writers during the 1920s.  Hemingway’s observations, recounted from memory decades later, are remarkable as he paints such vivid scenes with an almost miserly number of words.  It still works for me.

A couple of favorite passages:

“We’ll come home and eat here and we’ll have a lovely meal and drink Beaune from the co-operative you can see right out of the window there with the price of the Beaune on the window. And afterwards we’ll read and then go to bed and make love.”

“In Europe then we thought of wine as something as healthy and normal as food and also as a great giver of happiness and well being and delight. Drinking wine was not a snobbism not a sign of sophistication nor a cult; it was as natural as eating and to me as necessary, and I would not have thought of eating a meal without drinking either wine or cider or beer.”

The other title I picked up for the first time in years was Laura Esquivel’s Like Water for Chocolate.  I remember being absolutely charmed by this wonderful novel when I initially encountered it.  The passion!  The deftly handled magical realism!  I loved it then and I love it now.  I could almost taste the words.

Here are a few morsels to savor.

“To the table or to bed
You must come when you are bid.”

“A man equal to loving someone who needed love as much as she did, a man like him.”

“…within our bodies each of us has the elements needed to produce phosphorus… each of us is born with a box of matches inside us but we can’t strike them by ourselves…each person has to discover what will set off those explosions in order to live, since the combustion that occurs when one of them is ignited is what nourishes the soul.”

What are your favorites?  Have you revisited any recently?

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Filed under Books, Cape Cod, favorites, Martha's Vineyard, Recommendations, Summer, vacation

The story of our lives

Image: jellyjars.com

Image: jellyjars.com

As I walked past my car in our island seashell driveway, I noted the 5 consecutive years’ worth of Wellfleet beach parking stickers affixed to the rear window. It made me smile. I considered my previous car, also a wagon that had displayed at least as many years of evidence of our travels, and wondered how all of these summer road trips would be woven through the memories of my sons.

I would hope that one day my children will share the stories of their childhoods with their own families – and there are some good ones. After years of traveling together, we have a collection of moments which belong to us and can be taken out and polished countless times. Like sea glass, some began with jagged and sharp edges, but after years of repeated stroking they have softened and no longer have the ability to cut. They’ve become our treasures.

Projecting into the future, even beyond the expected years of my own life, I imagine my children telling their children these stories of us. The times spent with family, together, exploring new sights and revisiting favorite places. Ordering the same meals in the same restaurants in the same towns, not as an attempt to recapture that time, but instead, to pay those former days homage.

These days and weeks collectively combining to encompass months and months of our lives, are deserving of a chapter in our “story of our lives.” How about you, DelSo reader?  What chapters are you writing in your own life?

 

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Filed under aging, Cape Cod, family, favorites, moms, travel

10 things I will miss about our island vacation house

The view, complete with hummingbirds, of the private deck from my bed.

The stained glass window hanging in the floor to ceiling window in the living room.

An enormous fish sculpture suspended from the ceiling beams.

The perfect outdoor light fixture!

Melodic notes from the biggest wind chimes I’ve ever seen.

A sink side compost bin and a tumbler to empty it in.

The rich colors of this gorgeous painting.

A charming tableau of mermaid and seashell which never failed to elicit a smile.

The siren’s call of this third floor deck.

Showering under the stars.

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Filed under beauty, Cape Cod, favorites, vacation

Pacing myself

It seems that so much of life involves schedules and commitments. When we’re at work, during our designated work hours, we frequently have to respond to the demands of others, doing what “they” want, when “they” want it. In my chosen profession(s) I have to be responsive to other people’s needs and, when it’s work time, I don’t take issue with it at all. But, when I’m on vacation, that’s just not happening.

I’m a morning person. It isn’t unusual for me to wake up with the birds and I love the sense of feeling in tune with the earth. Since I need something in my tummy before I can drink coffee, breakfast is a mandatory meal for me. Beyond that, though, I’m winging it. I don’t want to feel pressured to have a meal just because it’s lunch time or dinner time. I want to eat when I’m hungry or to line my stomach before enjoying a cocktail or three. It’s vacation. Unless I have reservations for somewhere, I’m all about eating simply when I feel like it.

Not surprisingly for a librarian, I’m super organized. I prefer to stay on top of things in terms of tidying up, laundry and keeping our stuff under control. I hate the feeling of haphazard inefficiency. Seriously, it makes me more than a little insane. To avoid this, I try to combine errands and minimize the number of times I have to get in and out of my car. Particularly when we’re staying on an island that is inaccessible by car when the tide is in.

I’m realizing that I might be challenging to be around on vacation since I feel about vacation as I do about running: it’s my time to completely set my own pace. Beyond the rhythm of the tides, I won’t be pressured to abide by anyone else’s schedule or demands. It’s my vacation and I want to go with my own flow. Don’t you?

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Filed under Cape Cod, musings, Random, running, Summer, vacation

Morning thoughts

imageThe sun is peeking out from the soft grey clouds and my private little deck beckons. Listening to the birds and the trees on a quiet morning while the rest of the house still sleeps, is one of my favorite times of the day. No one needs anything, other than the hummingbird who just cruised by the feeder looking for some breakfast. He’ll have to wait.

I’ve been visiting the Cape for 16 consecutive summers and the charm has yet to wear off. Sure, there are places I no longer find appealing (I’m talking to you, obvious consumption Chatham) but, in general, I still appreciate what this place offers me. Despite all the changing variables – where we stay, the layouts of the various houses we have rented, the time of the summer, the composition of our families, which friends visit, the most special thing to me about the Cape is how it itself remains constant. There will be fried seafood and sandy feet and predictable tides. The shoreline may shift and beaches and dunes will erode, but the sun will reliably drop into the bay in a blaze of orange and purple at the end of the day. This, is what I love about being here.

I can’t help but reflect on my boys and how their needs and interests have changed over the years. The amount of props they once required! Strollers and pack and plays, life preservers and diapers – all gone now, replaced by digital toys and, thank God, books. When I packed this year, in my usual style, filling Rubbermaid containers which can double as hampers after the clothing is hastily put into temporary homes in strange dressers, I got my own bin for the first time ever. For years, I’ve shared my bin with my youngest as I’ve placed the big guys’ clothes together. This year their stuff is all together and I have a smaller box just for me. It means something doesn’t it?

Life is changing – every day. Coming to the beach and taking the time to recognize, accept and honor that, while digging my toes in the sand, makes these weeks the most special of the year. I hope you have a place like that, too.

Time to feed the hummingbirds.

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Filed under aging, Boys, Cape Cod, family, favorites, musings, road trips, Summer, vacation

Responsibility – personal or professional?

IMG_2485Allow me to share a recent occurrence with you, both to clarify that my life isn’t perfect and to, hopefully, garner some opinions. Last month, I had a little “incident” while on the ferry traveling to Martha’s Vineyard. We arrived at the terminal, approximately 35 minutes prior to our departure and were directed into a specific lane (I believe it was 13) to wait to board the ship for which we had a reservation.  A short time later, we were instructed to follow the vehicle(s) in front of us to board the ferry. We drove onto the boat, parked on the far left and turned the engine off. Next stop: Vineyard Haven!

During our ever-so-smooth sail, I gleefully ordered take out from our favorite VH spot, The Net Result, patting myself on the back for being über-organized. By the time the boat docked, I could practically taste those fried scallops. When I got the order to start my engine, I did so happily. The cars ahead of us started to move forward and I followed…

But, wait!! What was that horrible noise? As I crept forward to the sound of something metallic, I looked around and couldn’t help but see the looks of horror on the faces of the neighboring car’s occupants. They pointed to my roof. I stopped my car and looked up to see my trusty Trek no longer neatly horizontal in my roof rack. No, instead it was decidedly vertical, wedged tightly between the roof of my wagon and an upper deck of the ferry. Really?

I put my car in park and waited for an employee (a deckhand?) to address the situation. He slowly approached and looked at my car and at me. He started to shrug his shoulders, as if it was my fault that my bicycle was now more an abstract piece of street art than the vehicle which has gotten me from Point A to Point B for 17 years. Uh, uh, buddy. No way.IMG_2482

Once I was able to speak in a reasonable tone of voice, I had a conversation with a couple of employees and we filled out an accident report. My bicycle was zip tied to my roof and off we drove, really needing those delectable scallops more than ever.  I spoke with a representative  of the Steamship Authority and upon my return to Albany, I gathered estimates (Bike: totaled, replacement approximately $700, roof repair/paint $850, bike rack $340) and sent an email statement of what transpired.  That was a few weeks ago and I have yet to hear back.  I plan to follow through with a phone call in a week or two.

So – what do you think?  Who’s responsible for the damages/loss?  Am I culpable because I didn’t look above and in front of my car when I parked in the spot where I was directed?  Curious to hear some opinions…

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Filed under biking, Cape Cod, Martha's Vineyard, musings