Glorious Night

Living in a resort area does have its rewards.
But not what you think.

MV Times

During the summer we get, not one, not two,  but three sets of awesome fireworks here on the Island.
Starting off - fireworks for Summer Solstice.
Next up - July 4th fireworks over Edgartown Harbor - which sometimes get fogged out.
And last night.
The Big Kahuna.
The Oak Bluffs Fireman's Association Fireworks.

By Jenn Wiggins

All summer long you see the fire guys out on the corner of Circuit and New York Ave., most summer weekends, taking in donations and selling t-shirts to fund the end-of-the-season explosive extravaganza.
It's hot. It's humid.
But there they are, with one cause in mind - the OB Fireworks.

And lest you think these are some small time pop-offs, think again.

This tiny organization puts on one of the best displays of fireworks in the region!
I would compare their show to a JackAss episode, but not for the reasons you think.
It's professional, it's colorful, it's loud and it's CLOSE with a Capitol C.
Staged slightly (and when I say slightly I mean SLIGHTLY) offshore opposite Ocean Park, with its Victorian Bandstand, old-fashioned boat pond and a lush, green acreage surrounded by Old School, Big-A** summer houses of the old-time rich and famous.

If you sit at the front edge of the park abutting the beach road and the Steamship docks, you are in what we like to call the "fallout" zone.
As in watch-out-you'll-get-your-freakin'-clothes-ignited-with-ash zone.
This gets filled in first lol.

As the show unfolds, it's everything you expect in a local fireworks show.
It's got pyrotechnic stars, ground salutes, waterfalls, even a drunkin' man toddling and weaving his way across the firey ground.

But wait! There's more!
Huge roman candles!
Peonies! Chrysanthemums! Dalhias! And all the colors of the combustible garden of fireworks.
They have Willows.  Yes, those spherical breaks of colors that turn silver-white and trail like a weeping willow tree. The kind you go "Ahhhhhhhh" to.

And they have Kamuros. As I live and breathe. You may not recognize its formal Japanese name - meaning "boy's haircut."  This is not your brother's buzz-cut by any stretch of the imagination. You can recognize it by its dense burst of a glittery gold or silver ball, stars leaving a ponderously heavy trail of glitter behind as they fall.

And those SPIDERS! The "OOOOOOOO" factor!

by Charles Kernick/MVTimes

Anyway, last night was the fireworks. And they did not disappoint.


The ground rumbled.
The skies lightened.
The crowd oooooh'd.
The mortars boomed.

At last! A chance to hold summer before you, until it reaches a fever pitch of light and sound, and heavy clouds of gunpowder and sulphur hanging in the air a minute longer... then the echoing to silence the only thing you hear.

 And...the crowd erupts in hooting and hollering.
And the horns honk their approval along the beach road.

Have a good one. :)

Take the Time...

To read.

I know.
It's hot, it's muggy, you don't seem to find the time.
And when you do, you are flat-out tired and all hinky feeling.
But enough is enough, Mister.

It's important to relax those gray cells in a way that allows calm, quiet and serenity into your life.
Even if just until you doze off.
It signals the body and the brain: "This is down time and it's well deserved."

So.
Here's a list of interesting beach reads if you will, involving the island, and one series from my new fave place off-island the State of Maine.
Hey, it might inspire you to put our region on your next vacation to-do list.

Vineyard Authors
For mystery, I turn to Phil Craig and Cynthia Riggs - two different types of authors, if I ever saw one.
Ladies first.

C. Riggs website

Cynthia Riggs writes a mystery series featuring Victoria Trumbull, a "fiesty" New Englander, born and bred Islander, and amateur detective. The series of now-10 books, each titled in some way after an island plant, involve no jumping-out-and-scaring-you plots. It's a great, lighter mystery read, that you can pick up and put down, look forward to reading, even if for just a few minutes. What I also love, but this is probably because I am a writer, is that you can see the author's writing grow and evolve as the series moves along. The first in the series is called Deadly Nightshade.

the late Phil Craig

Phil Craig wrote island mysteries from an entirely different character viewpoint - former police officer and dedicated fisherman Jeff Jackson.  He was a sometime visitor to my parents' Salon Evening Series - authors and interesting people discussing interesting topics in my parents' living room. His 22-book series chronicles Jackson's fishing as much as it does his mystery solving. Over the length of the series you come to know pretty much what the issues are here on the island, even if done over in fiction form. And ladies, don't shy from these books, they appeal to an everyperson's sensibility. The first in the series is called A Beautiful Place to Die.

Geraldine Brooks

Geraldine Brooks has just penned an island historical fiction,  Caleb's Crossing. In it, a Puritan minister's daughter befriends the first Native American (and a Wampanoag) to graduate from Harvard College. If you liked any of her other wonderfully written novels, this one is a must-read.

Stephen L. Carter

Actually, so many island authors to mention. Yale law professor and author Stephen L. Carter is another. His legal thriller Emperor of Ocean Park involves upper crust African American society who summer on the island and the inner circle of an Ivy League school.

And romance fiction often finds a setting here on the island, too - Judy Blume, Jean Stone, Holly Chamberlain, Jane Blackwood, Karen G. Bates, to name a few.

Finally, I am currently hooked on the light read mystery series set in Maine by Sarah Graves. The main character is a former finance advisor to the Rich and Infamous in NYC. She flees Manhattan for Eastport, Maine, starts rehabbing an old house while falling into mystery and intrigue with a newfound friend at her side. Think Lucy and Ethyl in flannel and Maine accents lol. Sidekick Carol first lent them to me and I recommend them to anyone who wants mystery, a small New England town setting, an ongoing series, and interesting characters and plot twists.

Well.
That's my go-to list.

Have any books to add?


Have a good one. :)


PS: I know, I know. I could have shown their book covers, but hey, writers have family, too, you know lol. It's nice to be recognized for who you are.

Escape from Alcatraz: The 3 Rules

Calgon, take me away!

Island Home

Yes, even paradise has its Issues.
I'm not going to bore you with the details.
But you know what I'm talking about.
Daily pressures, even on an island, can really get you down, you know?

Don't get me wrong.
I like the disconnect from Mainland Life.
Reason I moved here, really.
Most times.
But sometimes you just gotta get away.

When I lived on the mainland - easy peasy - just make the "rounds".  Coffee spot, bookstore, craft center, yarn shop, mall. An hour or three later, I'm refreshed, ready to face the world again.
Good. To. Go.

Not so on the Vineyard.
The ability to "escape" even if for a bit, is a trifle harder when you live on an isolated island.
No down to the mall and back.

And the Establishment, as it were here, doesn't make it exactly easy, either.
Take for instance, the Steamship Authority.
The only way off-island with a car.
First, they raise rates seasonally.
But second, they offer Preferred Status/Rates to islanders.
So you have a choice.
Plan seasonally, buck up and pay per trip.
Or permanently put a car over on the other side, in the Palmer Ave. Parking Lot.

Once off, you can get an "islander rate" at a few of the local hotels.
And for the more enterprising set, you can throw a quick trip to and from Logan Airport to pick up guests into the mix.

But most of us prefer the One-Day Only, 12-hour Dash.
Out on the 8:15am boat back on the 8:30pm boat.
When you finally do go off, you like to pack in as much as possible into your trip. To do that, there are just 3 rules.

So here we go.

Rule Number 1

Full Disclosure

Decide if you are telling people you are going.
Seriously.

If you do, expect lists.
I'm not talking your lists. I'm talking everybody else's lists once they find you are getting off the Rock and They are not.
As a result, people here don't easily disclose when they are going off, because they are regularly keyholed into doing stops for anyone not lucky enough to be going.

Exhibit A

I give you Exhibit A: Pictures from Uncle John's recent trip off-island, sent to the Left Behind according to their list:
Were these items on Uncle John's list? No. But did that stop him? No sir. He forged ahead to help others in need of one of the Top 10 Overpriced Items on the island - storage bins. We go far and long to find the best prices for these babies - take no prisoners and all that.

Rule Number 2

Respect the Routine.
Do not falter from the regular run - it will throw you off kilter, make you even miss a boat. The key here is rhythm and routine.

Depending on who you are these might be:

The usual stops
1)McDonalds for breakfast
2)Wal-Mart
3)Christmas Tree Shop
4)Starbucks
5) Home Improvement Box Store, if time
6)Gas station
7)Dinner somewhere everyone agrees on, not an easy task
6)Starbucks again
7) Race for the ferry

If you are lucky enough to get to Hyannis, you can add on Big Chain Book Store, and possibly Olive Garden. And if there's time, there's always a Target run.

For the preplanner in you, there's also the possibility of a wholesale club stop - out here on the Cape it's called BJ's Wholesale Club. This involves a requisitioned/repurposed but sterilized fish or dedicated beach cooler, packed to the gills with bulk items.

Rule Number 3

Arm yourself with Sustenance
Do NOT, I repeat, Do NOT give in to the Fast Food Chains (except for breakfast)
Your stomach will regret it exactly 15 minutes later, making Rhythm and Routine obsolete.
Good, expedient spots to eat, while on the Cape are:

In Falmouth

Besty's Diner
McNememy's Fish Restaurant
The Ninety Nine
Friendly's Restaurant (because they can take your order and serve you when you have a boat to catch within the hour!)

Daniel Webster Inn

In Hyannis and Surrounds
Olive Garden or Panera's (yes sometimes you just crave normalcy)
A little fancier, Daniel Webster Inn

 While Waiting for the Boat, you can try The Lee-Side, Woods Hole. It's across from the Steamship docks, convenient for a happy hour that doesn't like to quit. Get a beer and play the juke box.

The Lee-Side

If you happen to get stuck in Standby Line or try for an earlier boat and they tell you to drive around till your reservation, check out:
Captain Kidd, Woods Hole - good chowder, on the harbor

Consider it a job well done if you get even half of the stuff on your list, and everyone is still speaking in the car while waiting for the boat.



Here's the point. All this effort does one thing - makes you appreciate what you do have back on the island, even more. There's nothing like dragging a sack of double cheeseburgers for Gma and a backpack full of cheaper priced booze for happy hours clinking up the walk-on ramp to keep you humble.

I think when I lived on the mainland, I took a lot for granted sometimes.
So to all you landlubbers out there, take note.
Even when you come to visit, there still might be an off-island trip in the mix.

To Commuter coupon books and no Standby Lines.
Don't say I didn't warn you.


Have a Good One. :)

Side-Road Living

It's exactly 5.6 miles from our drive to the Stop & Shop.

To get there you have to drive past an alpaca farm, stop at the only blinker light on the island, pass a rural funeral home and the small regional high school.
The only thing you miss on this simulated life path is the hospital.
On the 5.6-mile run, you get it all - birth, road stops, school, life, and the hereafter.

Not that that's important. What's important is that you get to "see" so much life along the roads in-between.

Lagoon

On this particular road, I can see on winter days, the Lagoon just barely peeking through the woods, sparkling water, deep, deep blue. And I can see the alpacas grazing in the meadow on sunny afternoons.

At the crossroads blinker, I can hear, in the close distance, whether my husband's plane is making final approach, and how much time I have till he hits the front sidewalk of the tiny airport entrance.

And, when I pass the local garden center, I breathe in the heady, earthy smells of spring and mulch and the hint of hope bursting forth.

alpaca farm

Past the funeral home is a long stand of pine and shrub oak that line the way of the Wildlife Preserve. If I have an extra 5, which I usually do, I can turn down any side road on the left after that, and make my way to Sengekontacket Pond and the Boulevard that runs along the inlet's edge.

Sengekontacket

Bumping my way past the Rod & Gun Club, past the marshes teaming with unseen life, I end up at the public landing - a small sandy parking lot dedicated to those out for an afternoon on the water.

Turning off and parking as close to the lapping waves as I can, I shut down the motor to sit for a moment. I listen to the gulls, and I remember my late brother, whose favorite spot this was to kayak.

Then back to the main road and on with my errand of the day.

What I've found is, here on the island no matter where you go or what you are doing, it's about connection. Living here allows you to stop the rush a little, pay attention to the side roads and attractions life offers up.

I think that you can have this living on the Mainland, but it's much harder - the temptations, the in-your-face, over-the-top distraction, the lure to do just one more thing.

As a slogan on a greeting card I saw recently proclaims, "Some of the best living, the most valuable living, is done on the side roads."

Here's to side-road living. :)

Second Bridge Diving*

Have a good one.


(This is for my friend Sue, who is, about now, really missing the Vineyard. See you soon!)


* from Life magazine

It Has Come to This: The POD Man Cometh

We all knew it was too good. 
Despite heroic efforts of epic proportions to stem the tide of - let's face it - Stuff.
I tried my best, I really did. But what I didn't know then, while packing, was that of course, living here in Paradise aka the Island does not include stuff.
Not old stuff.
Not almost new stuff.
Not expensive stuff.
Or cheap stuff.
Nope. None of the above.
Not any of your stuff from your former life at all, really.
Heady stuff, that.

I feel like I am in the witness protection program.
"No m'am, you can't take it with you. It won't do you any good there."
What we need, I discovered was new stuff, for a different life.
An island life.
What kind of stuff would that be, you ask?
 Well, let's see.

Industrial size flashlights to see where we are going at night on paths to and from the car, to and from the woods for dog constitutionals, to and from the bars - parking near the bars in winter is difficult. Lots of escapism here lol. And there are Environmental Lighting Rules.

Quest Box Great Rock Bight (photo by Stacy)

A good pair of boots for really anywhere, but especially for nature walks and quests. My nieces and cousin like to do quests - geo-caching (www.questmv.org). We are partial to Muck Boots brand. There's also Bogs boots. Either are good. Seriously, folks, if you have to walk the dog in all kinds of weather, the clog or short bootie style is for you.

Clothes?
In winter, it's layer, layer, layer, so: Carhartt, carhartt, carhartt.
Best damn pants for work and dump runs. Yes, if you need to get rid of anything larger than Bruno's Garbage is willing to take on their weekly pick-up, it goes the town dump. In our village, there's also town pick-up, where you need stickers for the garbage bags - but that's one more thing I don't want on my to-do list. I have heard tell that occasionally, a 5 dollar bill has been taped to the bag when the household ran out of stickers late at night and the garbage HAD to go out. But, I think that it wouldn't fly for me to be doing that every other week, since I am prone to not remembering to get stickers. We are Team Bruno's here.
In summertime, you don't need much except a good pair of sandals and a fishing rod. (We will save the Islander Dress Code for another post.)

4-wheel drive for the beach and the snow. Not too many people can drive on the beach, and the best on-shore fishing is where cars can't go. Oversand driving permit needed. Rust optional.

 No room for extra Christmas decorations. No room for fancy glassware, or serving dishes, or the mounds of momentos of former lives, handed down and kept out of family angst.

No extra linens, just the flannels M'am. Cotton jersey in the summer. Like sleeping in your t-shirts.
No extra blankets, all-season down comforters work winter and summer.

Not that I jettisoned everything from the mainland life. No, far from it. But we have gotten down to brass tacks. And that brings me to the present dilemma. Where to put stuff while we go through stuff to keep stuff we actually can use here on the Island.
It has come to this: the POD Man Cometh.
Yes, we now have on loan, a POD storage container, from which to stage the bricks and bracks of the former life. To deal with what Goes and what Stays.
Thanks, Mr. POD man. I have exactly 12 weeks, or 84 days, or 2,016 hours to get a Life. :)

Have a good one.

Oh My GAWD where is the END?

Did you know that yesterday on the island we had snow? Yes, that's what I said. Snow.
What a hell of a note.
You drag yourself through the first throes of winter in December.
You slog through January.
By February you are singing the blues to beat the band in 18-degree weather.
Then God gives you a reprieve in March.
Ah.
The sun breaks out.
The temperature turns northward,  puddles melt.
Could this be it? Signs of spring?
But no. Not enough gray and brown for you?
Wait two days and you get snow.
Black ice on the deck. Whoops go the feet out from under you in a late evening run down the deck to the trash. Really? Seriously? Down goes the bag, bouncing along the 17 steps of terror.
I left it there. All night. At the bottom.
And in the morning, the UPS guy, who is, by now, used to me looking like I have a sideswiped mohawk and no other clothes other than my shorty pjs and thermal undershirt to my name, merely sidestepped it and delivered my package. With a straight face. He knew. He knew what chaos resides only inches away. Yes, he knew. He, who regularly hightails it out of here to the bay of our rescue dog at the door.
Oh, how some days I wish I could follow. Oh, how easy would it be to dress in brown, deliver boxes, and run obstacle courses past dogs, cats, kids, cars. Far easier than to wait for spring in New England, I think.

Have a good one.

Let the Madness Begin

What does 748 miles + clearing, packing and moving out of a 5,000 square foot house + clearing, packing and moving out of a 2,000 square foot summer cottage + moving into a 2,800 square foot house on an island off the coast of Cape Cod + 3 cats and 1 dog + a traveling husband  + a broken pelvis, all in 8 weeks', yes I said 8 weeks' folks, time = ?

Sheer madness.

But wait. Don't touch that dial just yet. Let me explain.

My Old Kentucky Home

I first got the crazy notion for a simpler life, while traversing Concourse B in Boston Logan for, yet again, the umpteenth time in so many months, that hey, why don't we just slow down and stay in one spot for a bit. I had been commuting from the Greater Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky area to a small island off the coast of Cape Cod for several years due to health issues in the family, and frankly I was literally wearing out my bones doing it. Rehabbing two knee replacements (from earlier injuries and I'm not that old - 55) in between all this had just worn me down, and I was ready for a rest.

Fast forward to summer of 2010 and voila, I was in the midst of moving out of, and putting onto a dismal real estate market, 2 houses. One, a lovely, large and urbane house in the Cincinnati area, and the other, a unique, historic 4 bedroom Victorian cottage on Martha's Vineyard Island. Oh, and did I mention I found a perfect winterized house on said island that we closed on in same summer of 2010?

Yes, once you get to know me you will realize how this scenario is just one of many crazy, skewed, but typical happenings in my life. But I digress.

Now it is the fall of 2010 and traveling husband, 3 cats and 1 dog and I are somewhat ensconced in our New England winterized house. Well some of us are. :) Hubby is still commuting back and forth from Cincinnati. We expect to keep a townhouse or apt. in NKY once the house there sells. Oh, and the Gingerbread cottage has a contract (closing in October - wish us luck). So all is not lost. Except, I didn't explain the broken pelvis part did I??

Suffice it to say, one does not do the above, somewhat by oneself (remember, traveling hubby?), and go to diet group and not sacrifice something! So I cut back a little too much on the calcium. And then I lifted and carried one box too many. And then I did some heavy overstriding on Concourse B, remember? Hey I'm short, and the bus to the Cape only makes so many runs!! Abracadabra - and a fracture of the pelvis appears!

Anyway, here we are, at 5:30 in the morning having a cup of joe, sitting on a foam cushion, reminiscing about the good times, ha. :)

Victorian Cottage

Check out the photos of the houses. Yes, folks it can be done!       















Have a good one.

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