Tuesday  night, after a day of butterflies, and then dolling myself up by Blow Drying My Hair After Ten Days of Letting it Frizz and Make Up! and Linen Pants, I met Blackbird at the Bookstore Cafe. Is she ever cute! She came breezing in with a gorgeous long skirt, knockout necklace and a giftie bag for moi! She could not have been more entertaining or warm. We knocked back a few gin and tonics (ok - one each before switching to club soda - she has to go over a bridge to get home) and yakked for a good three hours. And I do mean yakked, however politically incorrect and nonfeminist that term may be. Someday I hope to get a passport to Tuvalu and visit her and vice versa.
All in all, we discovered that we both had a long list of horror stories about rental houses on the Cape, we both love blogging, we shared out favorite links, and determined that our next order of business has to be an East Coast Blogher conference, but we won't call it that but will make up a wildly witty name of our own, which escaped us in our gin-soaked haze. Then I drove home under the most incredible almost full moon, and the reflection on the black waters of the bay was magical.

The next morning, Stan and I jumped in the car and got muffins, coffee, and the papers and were at our favorite look-out spot on the ocean by 8:30. I wish there was a way to capture the quality of the morning light. It looks as though it is filtered through a sterling silver lens and the currents over the sandbars shimmer like a thousand diamonds strewn over the waters. I could easily spend every morning  of my life sitting at that spot, tracking the path of the sun on the water. Someone was giving a yoga class on the sand and the fishing boats were already far out at sea. Families began arriving with floats and coolers and we could hear the thwack of the tennis balls from the club.

We raced home and got everyone and everything loaded for a morning at the bay before the tide went out. The water in the bay is so clear that you can swim out a mile and still see the bottom. The city of Boston has obviously worked a miracle with their sewage output because 15 years ago we wouldn't even go to the bay because of the tampon containers in the sand and other grossness too horrible to mention.  When the tide began to go out, we walked about a mile offshore through the tidal pools,  picked up hermit crabs, watched some big crabs doing a whole fight stance thing like an episode of Sponge Bob, and managed to all get burned. I had the best tuna fish roll ever and then The Little One and I went to our favorite lake where we float on the boogie board and plot ways to live on the Cape all summer.