February, 2015 - The White Month

The mighty Snow Wolf...

After about the fifth blizzard update to concerned friends and family in the first week of the month, I decided they'd probably had enough.  Some were no doubt even thinking, you said you loved snow, well, you got it.  And, yes I do, and yes we did, and then some more.  It does tend to wear me out, but I'm still captivated by watching it come down and hearing it crunch under my boots.  I've graduated from athletic fun, like sledding, to more gentle snowflake catching, and photographing whatever the drifts allow me to reach.  The toboggan has become more functional than recreational, using it with a step stool as a bridge over snowdrifts to get to the bird feeders, or as a rescue vehicle.
      

...and, the not-so-mighty Snow Squirrel

Sadly [and, what I really mean is, catastrophically], my camera started malfunctioning after our first big storm.  It's always been the best diversion to keep me from picking up a snow shovel.  I actually love tunneling my way through snow, but it's #1 on my doctor's list of NO-NO's for me.  My attempts to use Ron's iPhone camera were less than stellar, but I got some dandy pictures of my fingertips.  One day, trying to stay out of shovel-trouble, I devised some Rube Goldberg-like contraptions using extra gutters to divert melting icicles from the steps.  It seemed like a good idea at the time, but, I really needed my camera.  

  February's timeline started out like this:

Thank you, Ponderosa Landscaping

We started the month having cried uncle, and had both front and back driveways professionally plowed, leaving impressive snow mountains and glistening, black asphalt pathways for the cars.  The John Deere plow wasn't going to cut it, and it was our only chance of ever seeing our driveway again this winter with more storms on the way.  

The Before Picture.  We had to show them where the driveway should be.

Superbowl Sunday was a gorgeous, sunny day, perfect for getting out beyond our own mailbox for a change, so I decided to check on the damage to Coast Guard and Nauset Light beaches.  If I thought hiking through sand dunes was getting to be difficult, I found that it's a lot more of a challenge doing it through snow drifts with icy, imbedded footsteps.  For my efforts, I found a gnarly, driftwood walking stick, and made friends with a lady I recognized who works at the Stop & Shop.  As for the beach, the cliffs looked like a giant earthmoving machine had a ravenous gobble-fest for miles, and part of the buried cedar bogs that appeared after last year's big Nor'easter, reappeared.  It's all part of coastal life, like losing the stairs to Nauset Light beach again, for the third time in five years.  We adjust and go on.

That's where they used to be, so watch that first step!

On the way home, I decided to drive up the one plowed lane to the top of Fort Hill at the end of our road.  On the way, I passed a couple, happily show-shoeing by rows of mailboxes, which peeked hopefully above snowbanks.  People were skiing down one side of the hill, and sledding down the other.  The ocean was calm and the salt marshes frosty.  But, as I said, it was Superbowl Sunday, and Patriots fever was on the rise.  Returning to my excavated spot in the driveway between snow mountains, I put on a big pot of Portuguese Kale soup and spent the evening as most Codders did, glued to the most stunning New England win, ever.  I was promised some pictures from a friend who says he made good on his pledge to dive into the snow in his underwear if the Patriots won, but I haven't seen proof, yet. 

First Encounter Beach sand dunes a la mode

The evening not only brought New England another Superbowl trophy, it also delivered more snow, which became the every-other-day pattern for most of the month.  Our days have been filled with rediscovering the walkways, wet clothes, filling bird feeders outside and humidifiers inside.  But, the weather didn't deter me from making a trip to The Orleans Camera Store for a consultation with the owner, Dick Mack.  Not only is he extremely knowledgeable about his field, it's clear that he's as fascinated with it as his customers, and shares his time and knowledge generously.  A quick examination of my camera yielded the bad news that it needed to go to the Nikon dealer for what could be a pricey repair.  The good news came in the form of technology advances since purchasing mine almost eight years ago.  It didn't take long to decide that the money would be better spent on something new, rather than repairing something old.  [Remember when less than a decade wasn't considered old?]  So, I now have an amazing new camera and a learning curve as steep as the snowdrifts. 

The second week:  Progress!

It took a pickax, but Ron cut a path through the snow mountains in the front driveway
so our little plow can get through from the lot next door to maintain it.

But, it's not only about snow, this month.  At the Lower Cape Outreach Council, my fellow members of the Development Committee are planning the upcoming 2015 fundraisers that support our neighbors in need.   Our February "Dinner with the Presidents," the "Annual Super Restaurant Raffle", the "Spring Week of Hope", the Fall Gala and many other efforts don't just happen spontaneously.  New ideas and the volunteers to implement them are a year-round quest.  LCOC is quiet, but we're definitely not hibernating.

There isn't enough money in the town budget to plow the bike paths, too, 
so diehard winter cyclists have had to hit the main roads.

And, the doors reopened at the Orleans Community Exchange, the oldest Thrift Shop on the Cape, after the annual break to clean and begin a new membership period.  It's an out-with-the-old event, followed by the inevitable in-with-the-new.  Nature abhors a vacuum, and our avid year-round consignors returned with new treasures to offer eager shoppers.  "Thrifting" remains one of the more popular pastimes for locals and visitors, alike.  Sweaters were a popular purchase this month, but between storm closings and a furnace malfunction in the building, February turned out to be just a teaser.  We hope to reopen in March with a new furnace.        

The third week:  Neptune - another 14"

You know when you see the words 'frigid' and 'howling' in the same forecast, it's going to be another heck of a Nor'easter.  

Not to let Boston outdo us with their highest total snowfall, ever, Neptune graced the Cape with another foot [or, so] of snow.  It didn't seem to be as cataclysmic an event as Juno, or perhaps, with mountains of Juno still on the ground, what's a little wind and another foot of snow?  Plowing began early this time, on the roads and on our driveway, before the snow could exceed the capacities of our little engine that could.  

The engineer, at least, was determined.  

Valentine's weekend, or not, we encouraged cancellation for both expected guests at the B&B.  Safe travel always trumps all.  But, that didn't stop us from making a run between storms to Plymouth [about an hour's drive] to leave Ron's Boxter to have the back windshield replaced.  Yes, Plymouth with the rock, "America's Hometown", but the rock was nestled under a couple feet of snow.  It took a lot of windshield wiper fluid and Polarized sunglasses to cut the glare, but it was kind of nice to see what other people who were snowed in looked like for a change of pace.  I noticed a number of icicle-laden roofs that had definitely been relieved of some of the snow burden.  Roof collapses have been the bane of this winter's frozen bounty, mostly large commercial structures, but many people aren't taking chances.     
  

And, Octavia - another  6"

With more to come.  Now, we're starting to be accused of hijacking other regions' winter weather and they actually seem to want it back.  As much as some people hate snow, their water supply depends on it.  Meanwhile, our fences and gates seem to be getting lower and landmarks are disappearing.  The walkways are definitely growing smaller.  The most common question heard these days is, "Has Andrea had enough snow, yet?"   

Redundancy in Art

So, here's the way I can answer that question.  Nobody would have even thought to ask my mother, "Have you had enough chocolate, yet, Lorraine?"  Or, my dad, "Have you caught enough fish, Sam?"  How would I possibly get too much snow in only three out of twelve probable months?  That's one season out of four.  I've only lived in New England [where there's a much better chance of snow than Virginia] for eight out of fifty+ years.  That means I've spent more than half a century hoping for snow days that never came.  Now, I don't like math very much, but I think that, in this case, the numbers say it all.  I have a lot of time to make up for, enjoying peaceful, lacy curtains of snow and gentle, snowflake eyelash-kisses.  It brightens the otherwise bleak landscape for awhile, and I get to wear sweaters that feel like warm hugs.  Didn't you love finding out for the first time that you could blow 'smoke' with cold air?  And, who else couldn't resist making cracks in icy puddles on the way to school?  As an adult, I also appreciate that the passing snow plows represent paychecks that feed and warm families in the off-season.  So, to answer the question, has Andrea had enough snow, yet, in MY winter wonderland, we've maybe had more than our fair share, BUT it's not too much for me.  Disclaimer:  as always, please bear in mind that I have no connections with any higher power to cause snow, I just appreciate it.    

This is what Cape Cod Bay looks like at First Encounter Beach. 
If you look closely, you can see where the ice meets the horizon.

Pandora graced us with flurries and sleet, while the South got deadly ice, snow and cold in places that never see it.

I overheard two old women talking about the weather the other day.  One exclaimed that she'd been living in Eastham for 64 years and she'd never seen anything like this winter.  "Oh, sure, we got snow," she said, "but, it usually melted before we got the next storm!  My yard has disappeared!"  With March rapidly approaching, I wonder what people will find to talk about next month?  If you can't find anything else useful about snow, it at least unites and engages people in a common state of affairs.  February has proven most of us to be a resilient, if not weary bunch.  There are the usual achy snow-shoveling muscles, and the constant interruption of routines that confuse otherwise clear thinking.  A case in point: when our friend said he uses sand for the snow in his driveway instead of salt and I asked him where he buys it.  DUH...we live at the beach.  Our regulars, Dave & Ray don't let the snow stop them from coming over for lattes and snow stories the morning after a storm.  Neighbors help out neighbors wherever it's needed.  And, since I'm banned from shoveling, I made a big lasagna to feed our determined volunteer shovelers.  Some days, when the sun comes out, the glare from the white drifts are so bright, we actually lower the blinds.  Snow or shine, I manage to keep our birds happy and even get a little exercise high-stepping through the drifts to get to all the feeders.  

The Latte Regulars - Show & Tell Time

Quantum - the big February finish? - another 5" predicted. 

The Winter 'Howdy' Tree

Only one out of three scheduled guests actually got to stay this month because of the weather.  They flew in from Virginia, luckily squeezing in between storms for their grandmother's birthday party.  As for the rest, it just wasn't wise to mess with Mother Nature, but our summer bookings have been brisk.     

Yes, it's really a Robin, but don't let it fool you.  We have them all winter, here.

For anyone who has been struggling to remain upright on the ice and snow with just a little dignity, I leave you with this short video, which will make you count your blessings:     

Click here for:  A Winter Walk

2015 Mid-February - Mid-Thigh Snow

This is what you do when you promised not to shovel snow anymore:

David 'Papi' Snow-tiz

John Snowball-ushi

If John Lennon was a Snowman - "Give Snow a Chance"

Kenny McSnowmick

Where's Waldo-Man?

Nom, Nom-Man - "One less squirrel for mankind."

SPECIAL EDITION: 2015 JUNO, the Blizzard

View Juno the Blizzard slide show here:

http://youtu.be/x94hXD8UADg

Juno, the Back Story

What is it about being in the middle of a howling blizzard and turning on the television to watch the news about the howling blizzard?  I guess we just wanted to see what other people were seeing about us.  We were receiving emails and calls from Western Massachusetts to as far away as France, including California, Maryland, Virginia and Oregon.  It turned into a pretty busy 24 hours, but I did my best to reassure folks that we were not underwater, and were safe.  I doubt we beat a record, but I'm sure we were right up there with, not only the snowfall, an average of 2-3 feet with mega-drifts, but the winds that sculpted those drifts.  

It all started out very gently Monday afternoon with delicate, blowing flurries, which had only laid down a light coating of white before dark.  We had B&B guests from New Hampshire arrive at noon to help their daughter in Wellfleet, who was moving away.  By 4:00 p.m., they were back to apologize about needing to turn around and go home.  The moving truck had been postponed due to the storm, and the NH department of transportation had called him back to work.  

By dinnertime, the winds had picked up and reached roaring crescendos by bedtime.  We tucked in snugly and let them sing us to sleep.  By morning, we were in a whiteout and I heard a breaker blow seconds before the power went out and the generator chugged itself on.  With well water that needs electricity to work, this is exactly the situation that prompted us to invest in this luxurious convenience.   Dutifully reporting our outage, we began receiving messages that the power company's main equipment that services Boston's South Shore and Cape Cod had been damaged by wind, and outages could last multiple days.  

At that point, I knew we had to check on our elderly neighbor across the street, and Ron confirmed my suspicion that he had not gotten his generator set up outside beforehand and it wasn't going to happen during the blizzard, either.  He and his friend were discussing how they could possible get to the shelter at the high school when we insisted that they sleep in the B&B Studio, which was now available.  The problem was that all the cars were snowed in and the drifts in the street would have made them useless, anyway. So, short of carrying him, how was he going to get here?  The toboggan in our garage, and a lot of muscle, was what ultimately got him to safe haven.  Of course, by then it was dinnertime and we knew they hadn't been able to eat, so out came the wok and I basically stir-fried everything in the refrigerator and filled all the tummies.  I dug out a couple pairs of flannel pants for them and encouraged them to make themselves at home in the Studio.  

But, just as Ron was getting ready to relax from the toboggan adventure, we got a call from our neighbor who lives at the end of our road next to Fort Hill.  She was snowed-in near Boston, and was concerned about her sister, who was not answering her phone at the house in Eastham.  Now, most people know Ron as a laid-back Southern California dude, but what they may not know is that when there's a damsel in distress [or even a 'dude-sel'], he runs on pure adrenaline.  So, he suited up again and made the .4 mile trek through the unplowed drifts in hurricane-force winds to check out the situation.  She was more than a little surprised to have Yeti bang on the door, gasping that he had to drain the water pipes, blow out the candles and take her with him.  Did I mention, they hadn't met before this?  A quick call to her sister explained his appearance a little better, but she chose to rough out the storm there without power, and that just left the trek back home to negotiate.  

Now, we were ready for some serious rest and relaxation.  By morning, all our good karma was returned in the form of an NSTAR power truck restoring electricity to our neighborhood.  But, we still had to engineer a better way to get our neighbor back to his home.  Ron found that the John Deere tractor plow, which has been mounted up and ready since November, was outmatched.  Plan B failed when we were unable to find anyone with a plow who wasn't already up to their wheel wells and tired of digging out.  So, Plan C became people power.  Can't say enough about the tenacity and good will of both our year-round tenants, who grabbed shovels and joined Ron clearing a path from our back door, down the driveway, across the street and to our neighbor's front door.  I could almost hear the inspiring sound track to the movie that would chronicle our big adventure.  The neighbors made it home.  Cars were dug out.  To quote a friend of ours, it was a real "walkin'. talk'in miracle".  Giddy with the accomplishments, we set out for an exploratory journey to Stop and Shop, where we found a celebratory steak to grill.  That's right, I said snow-grilling.  

It's likely to be awhile before we see the ground again, especially with more snow predicted over the following week.  I won't try to convince anyone who thinks snow is evil that they're not appreciating the beauty and excitement of a big storm.  No, I wouldn't do that...but, I really think we've got enough good karma banked to get us through another, if need be.  

Hope everyone's safe and comfortable.  Now, on to February. 

  

     

           

             

January 2015 - Winter Begins

H A P P Y    N E W    Y E A R ! 

Double rainbow over Orleans Town Cove

And, what better way to start than with a double rainbow.  Another reminder to always carry my camera whether it looks nice out, or not.    

December was SO gray for SO long that whenever the sun peeked out of the clouds it was a 'come-see' event.  After three straight weeks of constant clouds and drizzle, two straight days of sunshine was a cosmic holiday gift, but it came with temperatures more suited to Spring than holiday decorations.  Instead of wooly sweaters, T-shirts became our holiday attire and the Yule logs in the fireplace had to wait.  But, not for too long.  With the last of the travelers back home, January's jet stream dipped with a vengeance and we finally began something that felt, looked and sounded a lot like winter.  

Provincetown New Year's sunset - a painter's dream

When most of our family and friends come to visit, they're interested in seeing the sights that make living here unique.  They get the quick block-long tour of Eastham's tiny town center, consisting of a town green with the oldest windmill on Cape Cod, our town hall where lively, local meetings still decide town issues, the side-by-side fire and police departments and the 60+ year old Superette, where aside from groceries, spirits and souvenirs, one can get scrumptious, made-to-order sandwiches from the deli.  They get trips to Coast Guard Beach for a stunning view of the Atlantic Ocean, probably with surfers no matter what time of the year and then a short hop to the west to First Encounter Beach on Cape Cod Bay for amazing sunsets.  Of course, a walk through Fort Hill's nature trails with dazzling water views are a must and we haven't even left Eastham, yet.  But, when my son visits, he's less enamored with the idea of Cape Cod, the resort, than with something more unusual.  Much to our surprise, a visit to a friend with chickens became one of his favorite stops, but sadly, the chickens have all succumbed to hungry hawks.  So this year, we visited another friend with goats and geese to take a bag of compost goodies.  And, score!  I'm happy to report that farm animals still compete with electronics for a good time.   

Doug with Goatie and Baby

This little guy's called a Silkie

While we're on the subject of animals, here's the latest Crosswinds wildlife report:

The bluebirds are back! 

First 2015 feeder siting - January 2nd, but only for a couple of days this time.

AND, our first red fox siting in the yard, ever, but sadly, no pictures, yet.  

With New England's football team on the way to the Superbowl this year, January has been rife with Patriots fever.  On weekends especially, Patriots fever is evident everywhere one goes; bank tellers in drive-through windows sport their favorite player's jerseys, electronic bus messages endlessly cycle GO PATS! and Stop & Shop check-out lines look like an ad for lucky Patriots shirts, hats and hoodies as fans gather their favorite game snacks.  Game details are rehashed on sidewalks, at the dump and in store aisles, and anyone who has missed it can get play-by-play details from friends or even total strangers.  Even people who aren't big football fans say they've been tuning in to the play-off games to see what all the fuss is about.  Like the weather, it's a topic that connects people whether it pleases them or not.

  GO PATS!   

Ron's 2014 valentine

Cape Cod teems with artists of every kind, including many photographers.  While I consider myself more of a hobbyist, The Sparrow Gift Shop in Orleans calls me one of their local artisans.  It's a flattering title that carries more prestige than 'hobbyist', but I still shy away from entering juried exhibits.  A friend has been after me for years to apply for an exhibit at his friend's local gallery in Orleans, but after viewing a few of their featured photographers, their techniques seem a lot more high-tech and expensive than I care to compete with.  Last month, I noticed Orlean's Camera's invitation to ALL photographers to participate in a month-long exhibit called, Your Favorite Photo of 2014, stressing that this was to be a celebration of the joy and magic of photography and the stories that go with the photos.  No fee; no judging; just FUN.  I can certainly do fun, so I chose my Valentine snow hearts because they represent to me the serendipity of a fresh snowfall on Valentine's Day and the whimsical idea that came to me just before my shovel cleared the palette away.  The exhibit proved to be a rich mixture of styles and skill and choosing a favorite was definitely fun. 

Almost as good as a blizzard - The Chandler Travis Three-O

Just when it became apparent that a predicted Nor'easter was going to be just another dreary rain event while the rest of New England got all our snow, our Eastham neighbor, Chandler Travis saved the day with a concert at the Truro Library.  Score 1-we'd never been there before.  Score 2-we needed to go to the Atlantic Spice store in Truro to restock on nutmeg for lattes, anyway.  Score 3-it would be difficult to find a more fun and talented group of musicians anywhere, and I seriously mean ANYWHERE.  So, we thumbed our noses at the weather, asked Siri how to get to the Truro Library [she told us that "reading was good"] and spent a wonderful hour, or so, hearing old favorites made new again.  Thanks, guys!  

Chatham Cloud Show

Just before the holidays, I arrived earlier than I'd meant to at an appointment in Chatham and rather than sit in a parking lot for twenty minutes, I decided to drive down the street to the Coast Guard Station to park overlooking the beach for awhile.  I was so glad I did.  In the span of about five minutes in a dramatic weather display, a menacing black cloud approached and overtook the brilliant sunny sky, releasing slanted sheets of steely-gray rain across the water.  Within a few minutes, the quick squall disappeared into the horizon and the sun transformed the wet town into shimmering crystal.  Checking the time, I was just getting ready to return to my appointment when a good friend pulled into the space right next to mine.  We rolled down windows to chat and he told me that any time he was close to a scenic area, he made himself stop for a few moments to appreciate why he loved living here.  It was a good reminder, and while I don't do new year resolutions anymore, I vowed to myself that I would do better about stopping to smell the roses and the ocean this year.   

A favorite Truro vantage point

And, then along came "Juno"

From the kitchen window because it's still too windy and deep to go out!

Did I say winter was slow to come this year?  Well, there is no doubt in anyone's mind that it arrived for sure on January 26th in the form of a super-storm named Juno.  That would be Juno, the Roman goddess, wife of Jupiter, daughter of Saturn and mother of Mars and Vulcan, that is, not the internet service.  She apparently makes a pretty good Nor'easter, too.  This being only my sixth winter here on the Cape, I can't say this with a real old-timer's status, but in my own experience [and many will agree], this is definitely the most enormous, fiercest and most enduring blizzard we've seen, yet.  As I write, it's been snowing and blowing for about 24 hours and the forecast expects it to continue through part of tomorrow.  There is a one day break and then more snow predicted.  The power went out this morning, prompting another round of self-congratulatory praise for investing in an automatic generator.  According to NSTAR's overly-polite robot caller, their equipment that services Cape Cod and the South Shore of Boston has been wind-damaged and power is not likely to be restored for days.  I wished she had not sounded quite so happy about it, but we not only get to enjoy this frozen tempest from the comfort of our warm, bright home, we also get to extend a safe haven to our neighbor, who wasn't quite prepared for the intensity of Juno.  Thanks to this wonderful convenience, our storm preparation is mostly about making sure the bird feeders are full and keeping the water in the birdbaths unfrozen.  Without having to worry about the freezer defrosting, there's usually plenty of sustenance to keep us well-fed for an extended period of time.  Worth every penny, that generator!   

The top of the fence is over my head, so...

What possesses people to visit Cape Cod during the winter?  Mostly, a desire to get away from whatever "it all" is for them and a quiet place to decompress.  A recent guest told us that they googled "fireplaces" and that's how they chose our Cottage for their respite this month.  Whatever the reason, there are still breathtaking views, delicious year-round restaurants, a live music scene, no crowds, and yes, a warm gas fireplace waiting to melt the chill.  Meanwhile, guests this month came from Milwaukee, WI, Austin, TX, Pittsfield, New Hampshire, and Boston and Medford, MA.

A Cape December 2014

WHITE FRIDAY-1st snow of the season-November 28th

While 'Black Friday' raged in department stores, Eastham experienced a delightful white-Friday and our first snow of the year.  The gentle, all-day snow left us frosted, gorgeous and with none of the discomforts of the big storm that traveled up I-95 wreaking havoc with Thanksgiving holiday travelers. 

No extra holiday decorations needed here.

Turtles, turtles, everywhere!?

[from a report by Rich Eldred for The Cape Codder]

Volunteers have been plucking semi-frozen turtles off the Cape’s bayside beaches for decades.  Until now, the record high was 413 in 2012  and the year before that was in the 200’s. This year, over 1200 have been rescued and the number is growing daily.  Most are ridleys, the smallest marine turtles in the world, measuring up to 2 ft in length at most, but there have also been a dozen green turtles and a giant 300 pound loggerhead that sadly didn't survive.    The ridleys disappear after hatching in Mexico and then resurface at age 3-4 feeding off the New England coast.  Unfamiliar with the territory, they feed in the warmer waters of Cape Cod Bay and when winter comes they are shocked by the cold and unable to swim around the tip of Cape Cod.  There they bob like corks until pushed ashore by the winds.  Volunteers in each town who have been doing this for years collect the wash-a-shores and deliver them to the Audubon Society’s location in Wellfleet.  A volunteer veterinarian says it’s a difficult process to sort the dead from the live as the heartbeat can be as slow as one beat per minute.  They are then warmed up no more than 5 degrees per day in childrens’ swimming pools.  The twenty minute swims help them to get regulated and get their heat back up, and the ones that graduate will go to the New England Aquarium in Quincy, either by the coast guard or a volunteer’s car.  42,000 were counted In 1947 in Mexican nesting sites and that number dropped to the 200’s by the 1980’s, but now protected under the Endangered Species Act the number of nesting sites has risen to the 10’s of thousands.  Volunteers continue to roam Wellfleet beaches when the winds blow inland, but casual strollers who encounter distressed turtles are asked to please cover the turtles in seaweed, mark the spot and call the turtle hot line.  

This little bird took shelter from the freezing rain at one of our many window bird feeders. 

Speaking of critters, it's time for the end of the year critter relocation report.  I'd like to think the numbers tell the story.  Last year, 72 squirrels and 19 chipmunks were cordially invited to take a ride to the next town to set up residence.  This year, only 44 squirrels and 7 chipmunks took the relocation challenge.  If you consider the exponential impact of the family planning component, it seems to be making a difference.  There's also a lot less snarling and banging on windows, which make the birds and cats happier.

Who, me?

And, when you live in a small town, small stories frequently become big news.  I recently reported on the new rotary being installed in Orleans to ease traffic congestion where the main road splits.  All Fall, we've watched with fascination as lanes shifted this way and that, giant holes were dug and recovered, streets were ripped up and repaved, but still no rotary and things got quiet again.  But, we watched the suspense continue to play out in letters to the editor of The Cape Codder.  One cantankerous senior wanted to know what the deal was - there were still orange barrels up, ripped up sidewalks, and it was just as confusing and dangerous as ever.  Seemed like a lot of wasted money for nothing to him.  The following week, his concern was addressed by a resident with perhaps a farther-seeing vision of the project, stating that they obviously weren't done, and chided his impatience.  Sure enough, the following week, the paper put a reporter on it. One would think the following article would solve the mystery of the rotary-interruptus.  

Except, as if for spite, workers returned the following week to begin what looks like a paved circle.  We're no doubt going to hear about this again.  
      

One of the things our guests enjoy about our B&B that sets us apart from others is that their suite is totally private with their own entrance, bath and kitchen. We like that, too.  We know other B&B owners who literally hide from their guests in their den at night to get a little private time for themselves.  We’re not anti-social and we’re fine with being available anytime for questions, but when the sun goes down, we bring on the comfy-clothes, put our feet up on the coffee table, grab a cat and turn on a movie.  So, it occurred to me that with few exceptions, most guests know very little about what the inside of our home looks like.  This month, you’re invited to take some peeks into our natural habitat.  But, it constantly changes by whim and by whatever new treasures may come home from the swap shops and remains a work in progress.  

   

I love the reflected light that mirrors add to a room, and that 
depending upon the angle it's viewed, the scene is always changing.

I'm not a big collector of any one thing, 

but whimsical items do seem to accumulate from time to time. 

Even the bathroom is not spared the whimsical touch.

Window views are also important expressions of art, 

which usually include at least one kind of bird feeder and a simple garden treatment.

This is where the latte magic happens every morning, but not limited to the a.m.  Friends who know the barista have been known to drop by at any given time.

And of course, photos everywhere.

The lights were hung in the courtyard with care...

This December marks our sixth winter here and the reminiscing of the story becomes more remarkable to us as each year passes.  It has every component of an epic Hollywood movie - three houses to renovate and sell on a deadline in the worst real estate market since the Great Depression.  The ceremonial burying of St. Joseph upside-down in three front yards.  The impossible task of stuffing the contents of a house into a caravan of three in the middle of a Nor'easter, which delayed departure by a whole day and postponed our closing.  Crawling up I-95 through the storm's aftermath, sleep-deprived, running on Starbuck's Double Shots, buried under two shaking cats, arriving in Hyannis in the pre-dawn hours for a couple hours sleep before crawling into the Barnstable courthouse for a bleary-eyed early morning closing.  Eternal thank you's to Alan, our real estate agent, who called Ron all night on the hour to make sure he hadn't fallen asleep at the wheel.  Then the race to unpack and return the truck before the predicted blizzard hit.  We did, and it did.  Cut to the first of many furniture arrangements, a sea of flattened boxes and ten [counting cats] exhilarated and triumphant faces.  And, fade to credits...  

The incomparable moving team!

Looks like December 

Usually, the first displays and the relentless music of Christmas that bombard stores and the radio shortly after Halloween give me a bad case of the Bah Humbugs.  But this year, I've finally decided that celebrating THE SEASON as a pagan is not only a lot less stressful, it can be FUN!  The first thing on my list of traditions is lights, LOTS of lights.  They usually stay up on a timer all year on the old wood beams in the kitchen, but gradually one string or another gives up and it gets darker and darker.  Up from the basement came the box of extra strings and my work began.  With old traditions now come old hips and knees, and where I used to climb nimbly from one piece of furniture to another, now it takes two stools, one with two small steps placed next to the tall bar stool.  At least twice, after inching halfway around the room, half of the lights went out and had to be taken down and a new string tested and started.  Next came the box of glass icicles and crocheted snowflakes to turn the kitchen into my own winter wonderland while I wait for the real thing outside.  It only took me three days and I didn't break any bones!  

The back porch came next with lots of white lights to cheer up the dark winter.  Now add family and friends, something yummy to eat, a nice fire in the fireplace, some fun gifts scavenged from the swap shops all year, and we've got a Winter Solstice Celebration going on!    

The Pagan Scallop Shell Solstice Tree

The warnings of a wicked-brutal winter have so far not come to pass. Our bird bath heaters are plugged in, the firewood is stacked, Ron's winter beard has come in nicely, the leaf catcher has been disconnected and the snow plow attached to the John Deere, but our winter seems to have been detained in places like Buffalo and Chicago.  In fact, our local Christmas Eve forecast actually began with the word, "Yuck."  We're ready.  Meanwhile, best wishes to all for the holiday of your choice this month, whether it's colored red and green, blue and gold, or just plain frosty-white.  Here's an irresistible arrangement of seasonal music to play me out:    

Click if you'd like to view The Drifters Animated White Christmas 

Oh, go ahead, you'll be glad you did.  

Or, if you'd like a taste of this year's annual Christmas Cavalcade to benefit the Homeless Shelter, here are local Cape musicians from at least five different bands coming together to sing us into the holidays:

Click to watch Steve Shook and the Elftones