Early morning sunlight in our bedroom.

Taken from the roof of our house.

This rental house borders a pond, and if you look directly across the pond you can see the ocean, even the tide breaking on rocks off shore. The last two days fog has obliterated that view, such that in the early evening you may not even see the lights of nearby houses. This morning we awoke to full sun and a clear view. The skies is not my classic blue, but more like a reflection of the pond.

Last night we (Mark, Ginger, and Dan – Adam and Tricia arrive today around noon) ate shrimp with cream cheese and crackers covered in opalescent pink caviar Mark brought back from Oslo. The kind of that pops on the roof of your mouth. Linda, home with Paxie and her new puppies, provided chicken noodle soup and a spanokopita that, unlike Jennifer’s, is baked in a spiral and looks an awful lot like a long intestine. Though vegetarian, we decided to eat it without Adam. Save him the sight, I guess. it was all delicious.

If you walk out the back door you quickly enter an Alice in Wonderland like area of dark green growth. A short path wends through bushes then thick and tall sea grass. This hundred feet or so between everyone’s mowed lawn and the water is teeming with birds.

I don’t know what Ginger is describing, but I like the pose.

View from the edge.

pesky gets bonked.

I guess it depends on how bright your monitor is, but this photo, for me, has a bit of an Andrew Wyeth look to it.

We went to dinner last night at Spain, a restaurant with a fine reputation. Our meals didn’t disappoint, from Diane and Matt’s melt in your mouth swordfish, to my tenderly seasoned sole, and Ginger’s veal stuffed with lobster. Dan and Mark shared Paella Valencia which came in a flat bottomed crock and could have fed four.

We sat next to a party of about twenty-five celebrating the birthday of the eighty-four year old matriarch. They were loud, boisterous, and flowed freely from table to table, as if they were in a separate room. Some of us felt intruded upon, but I thought how great. At the end, the all lined up against one wall for one of those impossibly dim and distant group shots. I wished I’d come armed with my pro-sumer camera and given them a photo worthy of their night.

While Diane naps, Mark works via wireless, and Ginger swims in the ocean, Matt and Robby tackle a 750 piece puzzle. They remind me of a couple of those Commie Pinkos we were supposed to always be on the lookout for back in the fifties.

These two share pieces, work on separate and individual parts of the jig saw puzzle, and pass information when the need arises. in essence , they work like two Cubans in a cigar factory. But, I ask you, where is the testosterone fueled capitalistic need to compete and squash your supposed friend like a bug? No wonder China is eating out lunch. I blame this disgusting level of cooperation on McCarthy Towne, their grade school.

Lawn Chair

Diane sent me off to Roche Bros. with a shopping list for our vacation on Narraganset Bay (Thanks  to Mark and Ginger who rented a house big enough to accommodate all of us : Adam, Tricia, Dan and Linda too.) I couldn’t read the second item to the right of low sodium (sorry, it now has a line through it), so I turned to the woman next to me and asked,

“Can you help me?”

 “Of course,” she answered and quite warmly, I must say. 

 “What does this say?” and I pointed to what looked to me like “unclean butz.”

 “Chicken broth,” she said without hesitation,  “And it’s in the second to the last aisle with the canned soups.”

 

Over here.

Over here.