Girls' Week is over and we have returned to the heat and air conditioning. I always feel sad when I come back and find myself sitting on my bed watching some ridiculous episode of Housewives of ______, after a week of no television. Last week, I don't think I even sat in the living room more than once or twice, concentrating my time in the kitchen, at the table, or outside. It makes me aware of how much distraction I rely upon in New York and how little I need on the Cape.
It was one of the most relaxing weeks I have had on vacation. Maybe because it was just 3 women who spent the week reading at the beach, reading in the backyard, and reading round the firepit? In between books, The Bride learned to grill her first steak, we marveled at her ORV driving skills, and we took plenty of photographs of the dusky hydrangeas, pink and magenta beach roses, and fiery orange day lilies, a riot of July color.
This Mama was spoiled rotten. I shall miss her hot breath on my leg at every meal, I really will.
It is beastly hot in New York, so last night we escaped it by going to see Woody Allen's new movie about Rome. The plot is a meandering non sequitur, but the film is really about his love affair with Rome itself and it was just silly enough to make us laugh out loud and just beautiful enough to make us wistfully sigh into ourselves for a Roman holiday.
When we came back, I was so tired after waking up at 4:30 a.m. to drive home, that I fell right asleep on the sofa on the screen porch. When Mr. Pom took the dogs upstairs, I decided to just stay put and sleep outside. All was well until I heard persistent rustling in the garden below me and peered over the top of the wicker back to see not one, not two, but three large skunks nosing under the hostas for grubs. They looked like automated Daniel Boonie hats invading the garden in the dark. Fortunately they moved on quickly and I went back to sleep.
Ah, some distractions are very sweet little luxuries. Mr. Pom took me into the city early this morning before the heat ramped up. We walked around the Bowery and chose Colombe for coffee in part because the minimalist European interior reminded us of Rome (or rather, reminded him of Rome because I've never been. I say no more for the sake of marital peace).
The spare interior of dark woods, high ceiling, marble counters, and coffee served in chunky ceramic cups and saucers was the perfect antidote to the oppressive heat, and I finally relaxed after the whirlwind of cleaning and sprucing up the cottage for summer rentals and the long drive home. We may have been the only people there not wearing spandex, clickity bike shoes, and pointy helmets, but the barrista blushed when I complimented her on the beauty of her cappuccinos.
Hot and sticky here, yes, but I have a bench reserved for my my return in August. Hopefully, a few of the hydrangeas will still be in bloom so I can get out and about and do some painting en plein air.
Now I need to face up to the work week and go to bed. May your week be filled with fresh breezes and salty air, wherever you are.