2019 February - Colorful Characters AND the continuing 2010 Prequels - Adventures on the Cape #3 & 4 - The First Month

Last summer's garden project looks rather festive with a frosting of snow.

When it's February in New England, the 'Happy New Year' greeting is quickly replaced with an enthusiastic GO PATS.  It serves as anything from hello to goodbye, and even for when you don't know what to reply to something, a GO PATS with a shrug will usually suffice.  A 6th Super Bowl win for the New England Patriots made a lot of people here very happy and took their minds off of not being on a warm beach somewhere else for awhile.

We much preferred watching at the 'Crosswinds Cineplex' than spending our retirement on a Super Bowl ticket.

This winter's raging storms have not yet had the OOMPF to cross the Cape Cod Canal, so February's weather has only yielded occasional, uneventful frostings, unless yoyo temperatures from frigid to Springlike counts. And yet in spite of this, it may be one of our busiest winters at the B&B.  The general consensus has been, "we don't care what the weather's doing, we just want to get away for a quiet weekend."  Despite all appearances of quiet nothingness going on here,  activity buzzes in cozy meeting rooms in preparation for the year to come.  Non-profits are planning events to bring in revenue to operate their programs.  Renovations and general sprucing up continue at homes and businesses.  Some bird species are already migrating North again and giving thumbs up to our dried mealworms and heated birdbaths.  And, fun evenings like The 24 Hr. Play Festival in Provincetown lure people away from their cozy sofas for an evening of creativity and fun.   

Coast Guard Beach is popular any time of year for a refreshing walk.

As I review the Prequels of our first year here, I've been reflecting on how our 10th winter here compares to washing ashore in the winter of 2009.  What comes to mind this month are all the colorful characters that have become a part of my life.  For instance, there was Marilyn, I say 'was' because at 80-something, she just passed away last month. A fellow volunteer at the consignment shop where I spend hours every week organizing and staging, Marilyn was a tall, attractive woman who never failed to greet me with a big smile and a compliment on my latest gardening effort. She never missed anything I did as she drove by to the post office for her mail. She was "one of my ladies".  

I just found out that "Bob, The Penman" also passed away.  We called him that because he was an avid collector of old pens and watches, which he would repair.  Poor health not withstanding, he was a frequent, cheerful visitor to the shop on an endless quest for his treasures.  Whenever I would find old pens I would keep them in my car for the next time he visited the shop.  The person who told me he died said she thought his real name was Leonard...Leonard the Penman?  But, everyone called him Bob, or just Hey,Penman.

There are a lot of 80-somethings here and I'm surprised I haven't been nicknamed 'Junior'.  When I have free time on my way home from errands in Orleans, I'm a frequent visitor to the St. Joan of Arc Thrift Shop.  My favorite day is Tuesdays, when I get to see two 80-something guys who volunteer at the front desk.  I imagine their names to be something like 'Manny & Gus', but they're probably something like Francis and Anthony.  They keep up a running conversation in gruff New England accents that would hold up on any comedy club stage, and they're more than happy to include anyone in the conversation if you want to play.  I do, and it's sometimes the highlight of the day.  I should find out their real names before it's too late.  

Every weekend for years, rain or shine, a man brings his drum, flags, and anti-war signs and sits peacefully in front of the town green, across from Town Hall.  I don't know him, or his name, but I admire his staunch personal statement and give him a little toot with my horn and shoot him a peace sign.  He nods and waves back, and I think about the 'butterfly effect'  and hope it is at play in this instance. [Simply put, the idea that small actions may create large effects.]  

One of my favorite new checkers at Stop & Shop is also now on my list of favorite characters.  He's a diminutive man with a lovely British accent, long, blonde hair, and perfectly manicured nails, always a different bright color.  I always greet him, "Hello, my friend!" and his eyes light up ready to chat cleverly about this and that.  Sometimes, if I remember to bring canvas bags in with me, he gives me a star.  It's the little things.

And, my all-time favorite character, who we lost more than a year ago, made a surprise appearance on the Eastham Chamber of Commerce Facebook page this month.  

One of my photos of our friend, Ray, holding an enormous lobster from one of his traps, has currently become the face of Eastham.  The odd thing is that I submitted it years ago for consideration in the annual Eastham guide and is only now being chosen for a different project, so it came as a lovely surprise to all.  My special characters continue to come and go, fading in and out of memory, but always enriching my life.  Perhaps I'm even a colorful character for someone, too.  But now, back to the Prequels:

2010-Adventures on the Cape #3 & #4 -The First Month

Coast Guard Beach in Eastham

A whole month has literally evaporated as we have settled in, turning our dream house into a home.  With every familiar item put into place, it feels as if we were always here, and the images of our last home fades a little more. 

“You know you live on the Cape when…” you find a starfish in your driveway. Amongst the wildlife we consider our Eastham neighbors, are a bevy of swans that live in the salt marshes of Nauset Harbor, between the Mid-Cape highway and the Atlantic Ocean.  We have counted up to 8, who are usually there in any weather.  Groups of swans are also known as teams, and we always thought Eastham Swans would make a great town baseball team name.  I can just see the jerseys, now, with big, feathered wings attached to the back that flap as you run bases, and a large-billed cap.

There are road signs cautioning about deer, and indeed, we have seen many prints in the front yard snow, but I have yet to catch them in the act.  It has become a nightly ritual to flip on the yard lights at odd hours to personally welcome them, but my timing is still off.

It seems that every town on the Cape has its own individual weather system.  It may be raining in Hyannis, but be a perfect beach day in Truro.  Chatham is known for its fog banks that roll in, and Eastham tends to be more windy than most.  It makes for dandy kite-flying, and when it snows, the flakes dance in all directions and drift in abstract sculptures.

I am aware, as I do my errands during the day, that I frequently have an excited grin on my face as I’m thinking, “this is me, going to the post office”, “this is me in my new grocery store”, “this is me getting mail in my new mailbox”.  I’ve decided that it’s an involuntary variation on counting blessings.

Our first paid guests are a Bavarian family therapist named Ursula, her Rottweiler, Tessa, and friend, Tom, who helped them drive here from California.  She is relocating to the Cape, and the house she has purchased unseen online from our real estate agent is in settlement limbo.  We are glad to practice our inn-keeping skills on this very gracious lady, who has been on the road for 10 days, and thrilled to land in our cozy cottage, with a fenced, snowy yard for her doggy to romp in.  It’s also a welcome relief to have money coming in again, as we remain very picky about possible year-round tenants for two other units. 

Salt Pond in Eastham where we keep our "pet swans".

In between setting up housekeeping and errands, I have been indulging in playtime with my camera.  It has taken a backseat to chores for too long, and with so much new eye-candy, it has become a rediscovered pleasure.  Each day brings a new subject of focus.  Today, were the many birds who call our porch and soffits their home, too.  Yesterday, I captured some of the decorative night lights around town.  Before that, the view of snow on the beach from the Fort Hill lookout at the end of our road.  Tomorrow…the swans. 

For more than 20 years, Ron has been trying to get The Chatham Squire to give up the recipe for their Mussels Marinara.  I had to confess after trying it, that it's every bit as delicious as he represented them.  Before Doug and Mark, our friendly moving crew, returned to Virginia, we treated them to dinner there.  Once again, Ron tried to charm the recipe out of them without any success, however, while he excused himself for the restroom, I gave it a try, and the waitress managed to get the chef to write down the basic ingredients.  The proportions were up to me to figure out, but after a lifetime of cooking, I was pretty sure I could handle it.  I presented the list of ingredients, wrapped up as a gift about 2 weeks later and it was probably one of the best surprises I’ve ever pulled off.  That, and the actual pot of marinara, which hit the mark on the first try served with shrimp and a fresh loaf of homemade honey wheat bread.

The windmill on the Eastham Town Green

Today’s big find at the transfer station was a woman’s mountain bike, just my size.  It’s neon pink, but I can forgive that since it’s also free.

With constant tending of our ads on craigslist, we have now secured more than acceptable tenants for both one-bedroom apartments.  Ellen manages a program for Barnstable County Schools which matches high school students as interns with businesses.  Upstairs will be Ginny, an office worker for an engineering company.  My sister says I sound more like a social worker than a rental agent, but when your tenants are also your neighbors, they need to be people you don’t feel like avoiding when you see them.    

A friend who knows my fondness for snow called last weekend to say I must have been a very good girl because it was snowing again.  Indeed, if flurries count, I have definitely done something right.  I’m told that it doesn’t usually snow this much, but then I'm also hearing a lot of moaning about frigid temps coming from much farther south of here.  If there is any credence to this, either I have been very good, or a lot of people have been very bad.  You decide,I have snowflakes to catch on my nose.  Wishing all a steamy cup of hot chocolate, a crackling fire and warm thoughts.

Snow on the beach...does it get any more magical? 
Icy Cape Cod Bay at First Encounter Beach

2010-Adventures on the Cape-#4 Cape Update

Many thanks to all who have written to say they enjoy my updates, and asked me if I have ever considered writing.  The answer is, yes, and I do whenever it suits me.  The difference is monetary compensation.   In order to rate that, I’m sure I would have to suffer editing and deadlines, and wouldn’t that just take the fun right out of something I enjoy doing?  That my pleasure actually brightens someone’s day has been fair enough compensation for total artistic freedom, however, if you wish, please feel free to send money!  Kidding, of course.

Here in semi-retirement, the days are beginning to take some form, although more amoebic than predictable.  The clock radio is set to a respectable 7:00 a.m., however, Bob, our golden manx, is still on the earlier VA schedule.  At exactly 6:30, when the sun starts to come over Fort Hill, he begins a reveille of triplets.  ‘Meow’ doesn’t cut it anymore.  For food, he has to perform triplet meow-ow-ow’s, and he does so shamelessly and continuously, until whomever has to go to the bathroom more, finally gets up.  Since there is no clock-in time, what better place is there to fully come awake on a chilly morning than back in bed, now with the blinds open to watch ‘rush hour’ on their way to wherever they go with such purpose.  Pillows plumped up…laptop open to check new messages…local weather report to check for more possible flurries…things to chat about…and the return of the kitties, sated with breakfast, to curl up on a tangle of legs like lead weights.  It’s comfortably luxurious.

We've decided to forego premium T.V channels for now, and signed up for the monthly pass package at Blockbuster, which allows us to rent a video per day for very little.  The downside to this is that by the end of the month, we've pretty much exhausted the good stuff, but Greg, the manager, who refers to us as “the happy couple”, always has a review, or recommendation ready. 

One thing I haven’t quite gotten used to is that nobody locks their doors on the Cape.  It’s a real throwback to the 50’s, or are all small towns still like this?  We have a bowl full of keys to the various rental units to figure out, but none of the tenants seem to care whether their doors lock, or not.   It certainly makes it easy to come and go.  I now feel a little foolish about the pointless, extra key I made to hide outside.

As our first temporary tenant, Ursula and her Rottweiler, Contessa left to move into their new home, our first year-round tenant will be moving into the upstairs apartment.   Our other year-round tenant begins her lease the first of February.  It’s a lovely feeling to be able to help other people find their happy place.  Discrimination is not always a bad word when choosing tenants.  After all, with this compound, we have the opportunity of creating our own mini-neighborhood, and run a business, so it behooves us to be selective.   Among the ones who didn’t make the cut was a self-proclaimed artist, and avid collector of ‘lots of interesting stuff’, and maker of one-gear bikes out of used parts.   We decided he needed a much bigger place somewhere else.   Another rejected wanna-be was a woman whose own friend called us after she had looked at the apartment to warn us that she was “off her meds” and not a good rental prospect.  It wasn’t really necessary to point that out, but the validation did make us feel better.  

Today’s trip to the Harwich Treasure Chest to help Ursula pick up a dining table she had spotted last week netted a beautiful, illustrated edition of Hans Christian Anderson’s fairy tales, a pristine, white Old Navy turtleneck sweater, a signed, framed sketch of “The Flying Cloud” schooner of Newburyport, MA, and some more utilitarian items, all free for the taking, the ultimate in recycling.  The activity level has picked up considerably for the weekend.  

Saturdays frequently begin with a trip to the Eastham Transfer Station to unload trash and recyclables, and their 'free shop' named the Stock Exchange where treasures always await.  I returned to find Ursula in tears, back from her house that still hadn’t settled and didn’t have heat.  Our empathy kicked in after our recent moving experience and moved us to offer her the cottage, as a guest this time, at least until she had heat.  Then, Ginny arrived with her two boys to move things in upstairs.  The boys were enthralled with the cats and Ron’s slot machine, and quickly made themselves at home downstairs while there was much nesting going on above.  Having recently entered empty nest status, it felt nice to have a fresh crop of boys around.  Activities continued with the visit of one of Ron’s old Eastham friends, Chandler, to watch a football game and vie for who could eat more snacks, and catch up.  

With Ron at Chandler’s the next day for more football (and snacks), I became more acquainted with my new kitchen and finally scratched the itch to bake cookies.  Today’s efforts produced a batch of  Cranberry Oatmeal Spice and, another of Peanut Butter cookies and a plate of them will go to our real estate agent, who is returning from Michigan today from his father’s funeral.  Somehow, cookies say more than a card can, i.e. “sorry for your loss, but eat this and you’ll be nicely distracted for a little bit.”   
    

There has been much thawing over the weekend and we are beginning to see large patches of grass, especially after 24 hours of rain.  It was a good day to stay in, and today’s project was working on Ron’s “music room /gym / man-cave” in the basement.  It's now fit for making music with friends, exercise and hibernating. Everyone should have one!  With the rhythm of quiet contentment and simple purpose finding its own tempo, it’s a good time to bring this update to a close, remembering that nothing stays the same forever, and to appreciate moments at a time.     

Fort Hill under a winter sky