2019 - NOVEMBER NEWS & The Prequels #14, November, 2010

Note to readers:  apparently, a November blog from 2017 inadvertently self-published again.  I don't know why, but at least it was somewhat timely, if not intentional.  

About four years ago, after six summers of taking our lives in our hands to turn left on the highway, we decided to inquire about the possibility of getting a stoplight installed.  After all, we reasoned, it was a street that accessed Fort Hill, a popular and well-advertised scenic lookout in the National Seashore, visited by tourists and locals alike, and one of the accesses to the bike trail was right across the highway.  We decided that our best option would be to write to our State Representative and ask the surrounding neighborhoods to do the same.  As we knocked on doors and stuffed mailboxes to accomplish this, we met a few neighbors who had lobbied for a stoplight years before we moved to the neighborhood, but had ultimately given up.  They wished us well and said they would write.  At every event I went to that I would see our Rep, Sarah Peake, I would introduce myself and ask if there was any progress.  The first time she said, "So you're the reason I'm getting all these emails...", but she had her assistant reach out to me with updates.  Long story short, we didn't get the light, but money was approved for a crossing beacon for pedestrians and bikers, and work finally began on it at our corner this month.  Apparently, when you're dealing with the State Department of Transportation, the National Seashore and the town you live in, it takes four years once the money has been approved to get through the amount of bureaucratic red tape to make something happen.  We're hoping the button will be close enough for car passengers to run out and push, but we'll have to wait until April to find out.  What's another five months?

I've always been very fond of Massachusetts, but I just read that it has been ranked the best state to live in, according to a new report by a financial news website 24/7 Wall Street.  The rating was based on a well-educated population a typical household income close to $80,000 a year, which is about $18,000 higher than the national average, a low poverty rate, and an average life expectancy of 80 years.  In case you were wondering, Mississippi ranked last.
   

It was the first weekend in November when I saw two woolly caterpillars on the same day, a harbinger of a harsh winter.  Not a week later, we received our first 'snow', a day of flurries, which if memory serves may be the earliest I can remember.  About a week after that, we awoke to a thin, white covering of snow and have had a couple of 40 degree drops in temperature that had everyone rushing to turn off outdoor water.  Maybe there is something to the wooly caterpillar warnings.  According to The Old Farmer's Almanac, "the woolly bear legend is based on the caterpillar's 13 distinct segments of either rusty brown or black. The wider the brown sections, the milder the coming winter will be. The more black there is, the more severe the winter."

Have you ever wondered what a whale is worth?  I can't say that I have, but I found it interesting that a Marine Conservation Research and Education Organization in Sri Lanka did and came up with a value of $2 million for their blue whales, the largest of all the whales, growing up to 100 feet long and weighing close to 100 tons.  They base this value not only on tourism revenue, which Provincetown can certainly confirm, but also because they're an important part of enabling the ocean to produce more food and store more carbon.  As they swim around the ocean eating food, and then relieving themselves, they move nutrients.  When they die, they take the nutrients and all the carbon they've amassed over a lifetime to the bottom of the ocean.  I guess that's going to put them out of my price range for a pet.   Perhaps a smaller turtle?

Sea turtles are federally protected under the Endangered Species Act; as such, it is illegal to harass sea turtles or transport them without a permit.  

When water temperature dips below 50 degrees in November, the tides are high, and onshore winds are blowing, it's time for volunteers to dress warmly and patrol the beaches on a search and rescue mission to save cold-stunned Kemp's Ridley turtles from freezing to death.  As winter nears, the turtles should be making their way south to warmer waters, but since the late 1970's, some of them have been getting trapped by the hook-shape of Outer Cape Cod and become disoriented and too cold to eat, drink, or swim.  When strong winds blow in from the north or west, they're pushed onto the beach, where hardy volunteers are watching for them and get them to the Wellfleet Audubon Center, to be driven to the New England Aquarium Facility for rehabilitation and ultimately release.  

Instructions for what to do if one finds a cold-stunned turtle on the beach:
1-Move it above high tide
2-Cover with dry seaweed
3-Mark it with obvious debris to make it easy to find
4-Call the Wellfleet Bay Wildlife Sanctuary hotline

I think I'll just stick to cats.

Somewhere at a desk in Washington, someone who didn't have enough to keep him [or her] busy decided that it would be a good idea to change the exit numbers on all the highways in the country to reflect the distance from the beginning of the route.  So, in other words, instead of nice sequential numbers that everyone has grown accustomed to, they would change to random numbers.   Massachusetts, Delaware and New Hampshire are the only states that haven't begun renumbering, which is supposed to be finished by the beginning of 2022.  Cape Cod is dotted with small towns filled with people who are used to having very vocal town meetings about things they don't like, and they really don't like this at all, even though the old exit numbers would be shown under the new ones for two years.  Cape officials have asked the state to petition for an exemption, arguing that it is unnecessary, expensive and would require the reprinting of thousands of maps, pamphlets, booklets, business cards, stationery, etc. and will confuse tourists.  Exemptions have already been given for four other Massachusetts highways, so hopes are high that the status quo will reign on Olde Cape Cod.

Here's an idea: 
Let's change what we've been teaching kids about Pilgrims and Indians to the truth,
 and count our blessings every day. 

Eastern Standard Time returns us to early darkness.

The Prequels #14, November 2010

The month of November entered with a no-nonsense frost that made the front yard glisten and put an end to our beautiful hydrangea blossoms.  The Golden Rain Tree was true to its name, releasing hundreds of yellow leaves to the driveway.  The furnace woke up, and we’re down to the business of winter chores.  Traffic is mostly sparse except on nice weekends, more restaurants have closed for the season, and my Orleans consignment shop is cutting back hours.  In just another month, we will have completed a year’s cycle, and the early sunset and chilly air feel much like when we began our lives here.  The biggest difference is that when I go out, I’m greeted by people I know and I’m familiar with more of their local references.  I can even give a few directions without sounding like a tongue-tied first grader called upon to answer a question.  Our B&B is becoming an established concern that continues to become known worldwide through our own website and the ones on which we have listed.  Great reviews have been posted online by our guests, which encourage others to take a chance on us.  The months of preparation and practice have paid off in delicious validation, but it has not made us complacent.  We still start each day with a morning latte toast in appreciation for all we’ve accomplished.   A friend asked recently if we were feeling smug, and I replied that we felt too grateful for our amazing serendipitous timing to be smug, a comment certainly apropos for Thanksgiving. 

Barely out of the first week of November, we heard the ‘S’ word for the first time.  That’s right, possible Sleet and/or Snow.  Contrary to the Richmond phenomenon, there was NOT a stampede to the grocery stores to clear the shelves of bread and milk.  Nothing frozen developed either, but it was a wake-up call to finish winterizing and batten down anything in the yard that could sail away.   Right on cue, the brisk winds that pushed us towards our home for the first time last year and shushed us to sleep all winter, marched noisily back into town.   I found out that the roar I sometimes hear in our back yard coming from Fort Hill is not only the wind, but the pounding ocean when the winds are from the Northeast.  With a short drive, it makes for some pretty spectacular viewing from the beach, too.  And, at night, there’s something very soothing about being tucked under the covers and being played to sleep by the creaks and percussion of rattling things, tinkling wind chimes and the throaty whistle of the wind’s stories.  It makes me fall in love with our home all over again.   

The Wildlife Report took a new twist this month when while doing my morning stretches, I happened to look out the window, right into the face of a red-tailed hawk, who was using our porch roof as a lookout.  We exchanged greetings, which is to say, I nodded and he gave me a Clint Eastwood stare.  Hawks will allow you to come right up to them and even listen to what you have to say, but they’re not great conversationalists, preferring to keep their focus on a potential meal.  Moments later, after finishing up my exercises, I checked the Hav-A-Heart trap I’d set on the back porch for the latest scurry of marauding squirrels.  What I found instead was a rat (looking an awful lot like the one I’d caught and released across the street the day before), squealing in terror as the hawk was trying to pick up the cage and fly off with him.  It was a good thing I hadn’t chosen the smaller trap.  Then the dilemma of whether to deny the hawk his breakfast, or give the mouse a reprieve presented itself.  Thankfully, Ron came to my rescue, released the rat, which immediately ran under the porch, and life went on with its many agendas. 

The following day, on our way to the beach to see what 30’ seas looked like, we came upon a couple dozen wild turkeys crossing the road.  Now, I know this sounds like the opening to a joke, but there is no punch line, unless, you’re amused by 2 adults noisily gobbling out the car window and calling out Thanksgiving warnings.  If you haven’t tried doing that, you’ve really missed out on some fun.   

In our joy to be out of the middle of the woods and into the sunshine, our new, open yard was somewhat deceptive about how many leaves there would be to rake.  The many large trees around the perimeter of the yard, make waist-high yellow drifts against the fence after gusty nights. This provided the incentive to learn how to utilize another ‘new toy’ left by the former owners.  Put simply, it’s a giant vacuum-mulcher that attaches to the riding lawnmower they also left, and I imagine they were as giddy to leave the machinery to us as we were to leave the care of an in-ground pool in the middle of the woods to our buyers in Richmond.

With the return to Eastern Standard Time and chilly weather, the temptation of sleeping-in has grown too great to resist and it’s amazing how easy it is to justify.  Most mornings we don’t need any reason at all, other than because we can.   A new subscription to the Cape Codder newspaper, which is delivered weekly, is another indication of my willingness to slow down long enough to see what the rest of the Cape is up to.  Inactivity doesn’t come naturally to me, but given the right incentives, like a roaring fire on a raw day, I’m open to giving it a chance. 

With the capture, finally, of Squirrel #35, also came the return of our hopeful winged predator, who sat patiently on the fence waiting for the release.  Not taking any chances of an escape, only to further ravage our bird feeders, Ron took him for a 2nd Chance Ride to the park.  Our tenant, Ellen, who was also enjoying the show from her kitchen window, speculates that what we originally thought was a falcon or a red-tailed hawk, may actually be a juvenile eagle.  We hope to get confirmation soon from the Audubon Center, but have decided, regardless of species, that we’ll call him Iggy.  

We often tell our guests that our friend Ray, who visits almost daily, is our ‘Local Color’.  With 2 big dogs in a red pickup, tall fishing boots and white beard he fills the bill nicely.  To my absolute delight, he told his brother, Paul, who was visiting from Western MA, that we were his local color.  The evolution from newbies to locals made me feel like we’d gotten an A+ on a report card, especially when born and bred Codders  refer to us ‘Wash-ashores’.  Regardless of the pecking order, we’re glad to finally be home.

The Eastham Turnip Festival came and went without me.  I will probably see the winning recipe in the next Cape Codder, but after seeing the infamous  Eastham turnips at the local market for a pricey $4/pound, I frankly lost a little interest.  

The First Thanksgiving and Guest Report:  There’s nothing like the pungent smell of skunk to welcome guests for Thanksgiving.   Once again the traps are loaded and set in the vicinity of the smell, which seems to emanate from the garden area depending on how the wind blows, but no sign of Monsier LePew so far.

Our first holiday guests were Dexter and Lucy from NH, who had spent the day hiking all over the Cape before planning to spend Thanksgiving Day with family in a small town south of Boston.   They decided to stay overnight first and found cozy refuge in the Cottage. The Fort Hill trails at sunrise with the birds became their favorite adventure, according to their Guestbook entry.   Jean and Rich had reserved the Studio for Thanksgiving Day and arrived around noon, staying just long enough to find out how to get into their room before spending the day with family in Eastham.   The subject of whether the first Thanksgiving was in VA or MA always raises controversy, but we were determined to spend our first one here at Crosswinds.  For me, the best part of the holiday is that it doesn’t take long after putting the turkey in the oven for the house to take on a delicious smell.  It’s always a good time to try new recipes.  This year it was glazed carrots with rosemary, ginger and cranberries and the traditional New England Indian Pudding.  We extended invitations to anyone we thought might be alone for the holiday, but as it turned out, we had the turkey to ourselves and we were glad to know that everyone had people who cared enough to spend the day with them.  

Once again, the end of the month has snuck up, bringing us closer to the Winter Solstice and our first year here.    Winter nightlife continues to be a source of rich entertainment, whether it is going to local theatre, having dinner with friends, or catching our musical friends playing the local venues.   The beautiful wildness and peaceful respite of the winter season has returned to the Outer Cape and is waiting for the first cover of white to make winter official.