Having a Great Time, Etc
July 27, 2004
I'm here, I'm here! It's me waving frantically to you from my perch on a stool in the P'town Cyber Cafe. I had to travel the 20 miles up here in order to log on. The high speed internet access promised at the rental house turned into a dial up where we are paying for a toll call to get on line, so we didn't bother to open an account. There's a local coffee shop with wifi, but after a frustrating hour when even the cafe owner couldn't get my laptop to open a web page, I ran out of juice and left. Next I tried the public library, but couldn't even find the reference librarian who is the gatekeeper. By then the cloudy day had turned sunny and I wasn't going to waste any more time trying to get on line.
So I'm addicted to blogging. I admit it. I will try a 12-step program some time in the future. But I'm not ready yet.
Enough of how I got here - I'm here! And I have so much to say, I don't know where to start. The house is great. It has a large living room and smaller TV room adjacent to a deck with a grill and a picnic table with umbrella. The TV room has a long pine table that has become our art table, with my sister's and my art supplies spread at one end and eating space at the other. The first two days, I was religious about keeping a written journal on the pc as a blog substitute, but now the urge is starting to fade and I'm blissed out on painting. While we were in Wellfleet we visited a sweet little shop whose owner is from France. It is stocked with all things French, including s Caran D'Arche small pan set of gouache. I started playing around with it on the richly colored Canson Mi Tientes pastel papers that I had ripped down into 8" journal cards. The gouache is gorgeous against the colors of the papers. I went to the local art store today and bought some more paper in the deep colors of burgundy, salmon, coral, French blue, sand, and more. The Niji watercolor brushes are perfect for travel, and I am painting more than I ever have before.
This morning I had time to myself while Stan washed his car and the kids slept in. I went off with my disposable camera, searching for flowers to photograph. The gardens and hanging baskets on the Cape are filled with luminous colors and artful plantings that beg to be painted. As it turned out, I couldn't drive and shoot (big surprise!), so I parked at the town landing on a pond and spent a pleasant hour taking shots of rowboats and docks and dead trees against the green marsh. A young woman was giving swimming lessons off a dock and I walked out to take some photos. Laid out on the railing of the dock were about ten molted shells of baby horseshoe crabs. They were lined up from big to smallest, the former about the size of an apple, down to one about the size of a pit of a plum. Two little girls wrapped in towels noticed me photographing the shells and they came over to tell me that they found them in the water. We talked about how they looked like helmets for toy soldiers and they watched me sketch them for a few minutes. I picked up the tiniest and brought it to them and asked if I could have it. They hesitated just a second and I knew it was their favorite and they nodded, but I gave it back to them. They proudly showed me a larger, dead crab about the size of an apple that was the prize of their collection. We left, the girls promising to put out more finds on the railing when they came back on Thursday for their next lesson.
The house we've rented is a large, two story ranch that has the main living space on the second floor. The house is on a wooded hill and two-story laurel and rhododendron bushes surround the deck. The owners left an ample supply of bird seed and we've enjoyed filling the feeder that hangs outside the TV room windows. Early this morning I was on the deck writing and watching female Cardinals and little black and white birds flit to and from the nearest branch to the feeder. Later in the morning, a large crow was balanced precariously on the tiny perches and as the feeder swayed under its weight, the purple and black sheen of its feathers danced under the sun. Later on three lemon yellow birds (chickadees, warblers??) were taking turns on the top perch. At one point this morning, every perch was filled as seven birds pecked hulled sunflower seeds from every orifice. Of course, both my sister and I forgot our birds books at home.
The beach, of course, is always the main attraction of the kids’ time on the Cape. Our favorite beach has been eroded to half its width by winter storms. Yesterday we walked about a quarter of a mile up the shoreline to a wider part of the beach and to get past the kelp that had muddied the waters. The kids boogie boarded and body surfed for a few hours. Chris lost his sunglasses after a minute in the water, and Julia stayed in the longest, warm in her wet suit. The kids actually got along without bickering and pleasantly agreed to take the long walk back to the snack bar and back, carrying arm loads of fried clam strips and cups of clam chowder. Unfortunately, as always, food has been the background to every activity! My favorite breakfast so far was yesterday morning when Stan and I got up at seven and drove to the beach. As the sky lightened over the steel gray waters, we sipped our coffee and ate warm muffins from Fancy's Farmstand. We brought back sticky buns for the kids, only to find out that my sister had already been to Dunkin' Donuts and there was a box of a dozen waiting on the counter.
Today we found a restaurant that we wanted to go to last year but never had the chance. The Beachcomber at Cahoon's Beach in Wellfleet has a web cam that I checked all year long, looking with longing at the waves rolling onto the beach. We found it today, and ate outdoors, enjoying nachos and quesadillas and Pina Coladas. Tonight we will eat something light in Provincetown, after we walked up and down Commercial Street and Julia gets the temporary tattoo she tried to get last year, right before a huge thunderstorm made the sidewalk cart close down for the day. Stan and Chris went last night to the Cape Cod League and watched Orleans gets trounced. Stan just finished reading "The Best League Ever", all about the Cape league, and we've been going to the games since the kids were little.
The most remarkable thing about our few days here is how much history this place holds for our family. We started coming here in 1988, when Chris was only two and thought "Cape Cod" was the name of the beach. As we drove all over that year, he kept saying "go to Cape Cod, go to Cape Cod" in that repetitively charming way of two-years olds where you want to pull all the hair out of your head. After telling him for the thousandth time that WE ARE ON CAPE COD, we finally figured out that he meant the beach. Oh. This year, the former two year old drove me to meet Julia and Stan in Wellfleet, taking the rotary yields like a pro, and only making his mother flinch once when he was intent on finding the right radio station and failed to brake gently. Jess arrives on Thursday with a friend and we will all be together till Sunday when Chris and Stan go home. Julia is feeling a little down, the youngest child not ready for the growth that her family is experiencing. With the wisdom of middle age, I understand the need of the older two to stretch their independence as far as they can without snapping the bonds between us, in order for them to go off to college and thrive as their own persons. I know the rubber band will bounce back again and we'll all feel the smarts when we are crushed together at the holidays. But for Julia, each event is a change in the mores of her family, the only family she's known. We've talked about change and growth a lot, but she is has pockets of resistance to the evolution of her family and is taking it on the chin for all of us.
Stan and I spent a bundle in our favorite place, The Brewster Bookstore, yesterday. On Friday morning, Tomie DePaola will be there to sign books and I hope to convince Julia to come with me to meet him. I’m off now, to walk the crowded streets of P’town, admire Julia’s tattoo, and poke into the shops selling silver jewelry and sarongs. Later we’ll eat in a seafood restaurant on the harbor, admiring the sailboats coming in with their running lights on. We’ll drive along 6A, past the cottages lined up like Monopoly houses, and watch the sunset over the bay. On the way home, we’ll go to Sundae School for home made ice cream and real whipped cream. My pants are getting tight and my wallet is getting thin.
I don't know when I'll be back on line. With luck, before the end of the week. If not, get some sun and pretend to be on vacation!