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| Winter sunset |
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| January is when the bluebirds come back to take advantage of our heated birdbaths. This year's crop arrived Saturday, January 26th. |
[Taken from The Weekly Bird Report on WCAI]
As the land mass narrows going north on Cape Cod, the three main roads converge at a rotary that connects the town of Orleans and Eastham. When I moved here nine years ago, I found that there were many residents who lived in towns south of the rotary who considered anything north of it to be the wild unknown. In fact, historians show that the rotary was at one time a body of water called Jeremiah's Gulch that required a boat to continue north. So it's only fitting that one of the first places you come to as you enter Eastham is the appropriately named Wild Care, which started when a local woman and a few volunteers began taking in and helping injured animals at her home. It officially became a non-profit organization in 1993 and moved to the current Eastham property in 2004. Through contributions and fundraisers, they now boast pools, a heated Jacuzzi, x-ray technology and 3 cameras to monitor the recovering animals. Approximately 27,000 wild animals have been assisted so far with a 46% success rate, and there are more than 230 volunteers and 8 full time staff. 275 different species have been treated, including sea birds, reptiles, mammals, birds of prey, and others which are brought to their attention by people who happen upon the wild animals in trouble and call the 24/7 helpline. [Information taken from The Cape Codder]
 Learn more at: Wild Care Cape Cod |
It wouldn't be January if the subject of weather didn't eventually come up. The jury is still out on what kind of winter it will be here. Although storms have weekly been causing havoc from the west to the east coast, and then north, we've yet to see more than a flurry and a scant inch on the Cape. Disappointing for me, but a relief for many others. We still have pansies blooming, but it's too early to predict if I'll get to wear my snow boots. In the meantime, here are some fun science facts about snow, courtesy of the Marie Mitchell Museum on Nantucket that you can enjoy in total comfort whether you have snow, or not:
FUN
SCIENCE FACTS ABOUT SNOW
Sure,
it’s fun to play in, to throw, and to make snow angels – and maybe not so fun
to shovel – but, as hardy New Englanders, snow is part of our winter landscape.
While you’re watching those flakes come down this year, here are some
interesting facts to think about.
1. Snow
is translucent, not white. Snow is made up of ice particles, which are
colorless.
2. Each
winter in the United States alone, at least 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000
snowflakes fall from the sky.
3. Not
every storm that produces snow is a blizzard. In order to be classified as a
blizzard, winds must be at least 35 mph and visibility must be reduced by
snowfall to less than .25 miles for at least three hours.
4. Other
types of snowstorms include snow squalls and snow bursts.
5. Snowflakes
always have six sides. The water molecules that form snowflakes can only fit
together to form six-sided crystals.
6. In
1988, Nancy Knight, a scientist for the National Center for Atmospheric
Research, observed two snowflakes that were exactly the same. The snowflakes
came from a snowstorm in Wisconsin.
7. Snow
is a mineral, according to the National Snow & Ice Data Center, because
it’s a solid that is naturally occurring and inorganically formed.
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| A beautiful January afternoon on Cape Cod Bay |
And, there's a lot of this going on here in January:
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| The New England Patriots head to their ninth Super Bowl |
And now, the Prequels Part I & 2
December 2009 - North to Eastham – Part 1 – The Trip
The
definition of the word travail is ‘painful,
or laborious effort’. It is also the origin of the word travel,
a word we more commonly associate with much more pleasant connotations.
Although reaching our destination of Eastham, MA has proved to be all we had
hoped, the actual move from Richmond, VA epitomized the word, travail.
It is not without noting that from the time we fell in love with our new home
to the day we signed papers and were presented the keys, it took close to 9
months, and also felt very much like giving birth to a new life, complete with
labor pains. It took selling 3 homes in the worst real estate market of
our lifetimes, settling an estate, and transferring way too many possessions in
a caravan which consisted of a 24’ moving van, 2 additional vehicles, 4 people
and 2 bewildered cats, a distance of 500+ miles through several large cities on
I-95.
Our
last weekend in Virginia was spent partly in Alexandria at my niece’s
wedding. We should have been home preparing for the move, but wouldn’t
have missed the family gathering for anything. We had spent the
week before moving down all the boxes of things that had been banished to the
attic while showing the house, and trotting back and forth to the Fedex office
with more and more forms that the settlement company came up with, daily to
sign, notarize, fax and overnight to them. On the Monday after the
wedding, we closed on one of the two houses that should have settled that day,
picked up the moving van and began loading. On Tuesday, at the last
moment, we closed on the other house and continued loading, but it was apparent
that due to the constant interruptions from the settlement company, we would
not be finished by the end of the day, nor would we have enough room to take
all of our things. The weather forecast for Wednesday, our scheduled
day to drive, was torrential rain and gusty winds, all the way up the
coast. A quick call to our realtor and a lot of begging bought us
another night at the house from our buyers, most of which was spent trying to
finish loading in the already pouring rain. With nothing left to sleep
on, we finally checked into a motel in the wee hours of the next morning for a
few hours of rest before the drive. We
returned to the house with bleary eyes to resolve loading and dispursing the
last of our possessions, which was only accomplished by abandoning many of
them. Two loads to Goodwill, a load to
the dump and many disbursements to friends and neighbors-later, we collected
the cats and got on the road about 3 p.m.
This, after only a couple of hours of sleep…
Our caravan consisted of Ron, driving the moving van, fortified by a cooler full of Starbucks Doubleshot Expressos, our friend, Mark, driving Ron’s pickup truck, which was also fully loaded, and my son, Doug, driving my car, with me and two, very upset cats. After watching their world shrink for 8 months, first to stage and show the house, then the rest packed into boxes and disappearing one by one into a truck, then stuffed into a loud and vibrating car, they were not at all sure about the outcome of their predicament. With several stops for gas and food, coordinated by cell phones, we managed to pull into our motel in Hyannis by about 2 a.m., only to find that despite the information on the website, the cats were not welcome. The clerk was kind enough to find Ron & I a room down the street that would also take the cats, so we left Doug & Mark there and returned to the car. Unfortunately, the door to the cat carrier sprang open on the way, releasing Newfie, the black cat, to streak across the parking lot into the bushes against the motel, which were full of thorns. Thankfully, he decided that the car looked like a better bet than me stomping and cursing through thorns, and he willingly returned. As I gazed up at the street light in the parking lot, it began to flurry. That, somehow, made the very long and tense trip feel fresh and hopeful again. Several hours later, in the Barnstable Courthouse, with Mark and Doug cat-sitting, we signed the final papers, got keys, and finally went home.
North to Eastham – Part 2 - Honey, We’re Home
It took 2 days for Ron,
Mark & Doug to unload everything, and my time was consumed by emptying and
flattening boxes as fast as I could and placing things where I was most likely
to be able to find them again. My
inherent tendency to create order from chaos definitely had me in my
element. While I plowed through the
stacks they left me, Ron took the guys for a brief tour of our town’s First
Encounter Beach on Cape Cod Bay, where they learned the joy of letting the
stiff wind support them, with arms outstretched like airplanes. First Encounter is named for the Mayflower
Pilgrims’ first meeting with the native Wampanoag Indians. Not wanting to take unfair advantage of my
helpers, who had worked both tirelessly and cheerfully, we took the next
day off to show them some of the reasons why we had chosen to live in this
place.
We all piled into the
truck and drove down Cape to Provincetown, the farthest point north, passing
through the scenic towns of Wellfleet and Truro. The quaintness and constant proximity to
water is what draws everyone to this area, mostly in the summer, but we find
that winter brings its own special beauty and peacefulness to the small beach
towns, and year-rounders have plenty of opportunities for entertainment of all
kinds. We had a delicious lunch at
JoMama’s, cruised for bargains in the
most eclectic of shops and contemplated the wild beauty of the ocean at Race
Point before returning to eat lobster rolls from the local Stop & Shop for
dinner. We never take for granted that
our days now begin and end in a place that most people come to for only a week,
or two, and wish they could stay longer.
It took about a week to become acclimated to the feeling that we would not
have to leave, too.
The cats, thrilled to be
out of the car, and rediscovering their favorite furniture, smells and comfy
spots, made themselves right at home exploring all the new nooks and crannies,
smells and sights. We’re all childishly
delighted, after living at the bottom of a hill and surrounded by the forest,
by now having a distant view of the Mid-Cape highway from our front
windows. The back windows look out on an
open porch, surrounded by trellises covered in wisteria and roses, and birds,
lots of birds. I have made sure the bird
feeders are full. We tend to think of
each window as a different T.V. channel.
Getting Settled
There is a delicate
balance to changing from one location to another, and one must pre-determine
this domino effect, or end up just spinning wheels. For instance, the weather forecast was for
snow, lots of snow. The yard was covered
with piles of flattened boxes, which were constantly being rearranged by the
incoming Alberta Clipper, and needed to be taken to the dump before they got
buried under the predicted 18” of snow. But, one must have a town dump sticker
for that, which requires proof of
residency, which requires a new
driver’s license and tags, which first
require proof of new car insurance. That
took about 3 days to accomplish, which was just in time for the blizzard that
covered most of the east coast. MA is
more prepared to deal with snow than VA, and though the snow was higher than my
new boots, the promptly plowed roads were just fine to drive by the next day. Luckily, with the help of our real estate
agent, and new friend, Alan, Ron was able to find a great deal on a new snow
blower just hours before the deluge.
And now, a tribute to
Cape dumps, or transfer stations, as they are called: they are a recycler’s dream-come-true. Not only is there a place to dispose of every
possible item, each town has its own section to bring things that are too good
to throw away, but aren’t wanted anymore.
Anyone can leave things, or take things, and they each have names. Eastham’s is the Swap Shop, or Stock
Exchange. Harwich is the Treasure Chest,
and so on. They’re a great place to look
for something you need, or to upgrade something you already have, not to
mention get rid of things you no longer want. I quickly found a bulletin board to replace
the one I had to leave behind and dropped off several boxes of unwanted
household items left by our sellers.
Another task was
choosing a new bank and opening new accounts.
In our minds, there was no other choice than the Cape Cod Five, in
business since 1855, originally The Cape Cod Five Cents Savings Bank. The woman who opened our accounts was none
other than Paige Pennypacker. Talk
about the right name for the job…
We chose the town of
Eastham for its mid-Cape location and its lack of people-drawing commerce. It is, however, only a mile and a half to the
Orleans rotary, where we can find almost
anything we want, or certainly whatever we need. A word about rotaries: they’re not as confusing as one first thinks
after learning the simple rule. Drivers
inside the rotary have the right of way; drivers wanting to enter the rotary
yield until they can take their place on the merry-go-round. The beauty of rotaries is that if you miss
your turnoff, you just go around again until you see the right one. The danger is the out-of-towners who aren’t
used to them. ‘Nuff said. Eastham’s main commercial area consists mainly
of the Town Hall, fire station, post office, library, information center (open
in summer), the Eastham Superette (wonderful sandwiches made fresh to order), Windmill
Park, various restaurants, motels and rental cottages, and of course, the entrance
to the Cape Cod National Seashore, created in 1961 by President John F, Kennedy,
and run by the National Parks Service.
Our neighborhood is called Fort Hill.
It was never actually a fort, but boasts a magnificent lookout over
Nauset Harbor, the salt marshes, and beyond to the Atlantic Ocean. It’s a favorite meeting spot for year-rounders
to come to sip morning coffee, take a lunch break or for quiet contemplation,
or fitness walks on the walking and bike trails, anytime. On the 3/10th of a mile walk from
our home to the lookout, we pass the famous Captain Penniman House, a French
Second Empire style home, built in 1868 by a whaling captain, and noted for the
whalebone jaws in the front yard.
On Tuesday, all too
soon, it was time to take Mark & Doug to Logan airport in Boston. We had planned the early evening flights so
that we could spend the day showing them the big city where we both used to
live. But, no one really wanted to leave
Eastham before they absolutely had to, and our timing backfired as we were
forced to brave rush hour traffic to get to their flights. Next to South Koreans, Boston is known for its
crazy drivers, and Tuesday was no exception.
Despite some close calls and an unscheduled detour on the Mass Pike
heading west, we made it back intact.
And, now that the
holidays are nearing an end, our attention turns to finding good tenants for
the rental units. The B&B idea has
sensibly faded into more of a seasonal or year round scenario, a work smarter,
not harder philosophy, however, depending on availability of our guest
quarters, we may dabble when it suits us.
Each day of sorting, rearranging and exploring brings us closer to
feeling more at home than guests. We
like to think of ourselves as the current caretakers of this wonderful property
that others have tended before us. We
look forward to seeing the surprises that each season brings and welcoming
friends to share it with us.
