Rain Against My Window

It’s been a while.   Let’s catch us all up on what’s going on……<cue crickets>

Yeah, not much.

But here goes….Chef and I took a little trip Off Cape which was good.   We went to a big box center in Wareham, Mass.   It was like emerging into another world in a lot of ways.  Huge, expansive parking lot.   Several clusters of 1st and 2nd generation Big Box Retailers.  A few shuttered, vast, empty businesses.   And miles and miles of things to purchase and consume.   Depressing.  It certainly was fodder for my budding anti-consumerist thoughts (which, coincidentally, go hand-in-hand with my growing poverty).   I picked up a few things at Target and some discount booze, but otherwise I was non-plused.   Back On Cape, we stopped in Hyannis at Trader Joe’s, another place I’ve never really understood.  Chef stocked up.   Me, not so much.   A nasty lunch at Sam Diego’s (“Beunos Nacho’s, Y’all!”) provided comic relief.  The conversation and  music were good and the diversion was welcomed.   But, I was glad to get back to Ptown.

Two clients of mine from last summer got married the following Saturday.   The wedding combined with a couple of dinner parties made for a socially busy weekend.   The wedding was at the Red Inn, always a lovely spot.   I only wish the food were better and they’d have a total hit on their hands.   But I think the location is tops on the Cape, bar none.   The grooms were so kind and hospitable and I was thrilled to be included (they had proposed at the 40th birthday party I catered).   Super fun times were had later at the A-House.

Thanksgiving Week brought me to 3 Dyer to house and pet sit.   It’s been nice to be in this lovely place for 10 days.   The dogs are pretty good and the cat basically takes care of himself.   Chef cooked Turkey on Thursday and 4 of us had a mellow evening.   The bird was beautiful, the parsnip/apple soup devine.   Friends from Boston came out Saturday and stayed at 3 Dyer.   These two women are just amazing….talented, smart, funny, Southern.  What’s not to like?   We cooked and talked and drank and sang and listened to music.  It was lovely as are they.    An ad hoc brunch followed Sunday with more women and me….

So there’s the low down on what I’ve been doing.  But it’s quiet here.  I have far too much time on my hands to think about my situation over and over.  The more I think about what’s to be done and what I want to do, the uglier the picture I paint for myself.   I was up at 4 today, tossing, turning, worrying.  This protracted period of “down time” has got to come to an end.   I’m no fan of inertia, that’s for sure.

I’m going to look at the opportunities in my hand and in my head and be positive.   I’m going to make the most of my trip to Atlanta.  I’m not going to worry about next Season or if there will be a next Season.  I’m going home with open eyes and will be present for whatever.   I’m going to continue to attempt to create my own destiny, whether it be here or there.   I’m going to temper patience with anxiety and hope for a healthy mix.  I’m kicking this passivity to the curb.   This is my time.   I know not where this will take me, but let’s go!

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The Waiting is the Hardest Part

….cliche’ I know, but it fits.

Anyway, it’s been a month since Devon’s closed and I’ve not been working.   I’m doing OK with the glacial pace with which my life is progressing.   There are many good things (concentration, reading, cooking, exercise, reading, naps, thinking) going on every day and many not so good things as well (concentration, worrying, boredom, thinking).   All in all, I’m managing.   I had two really good conversations lately – one with Matt and one with my Dad – that have helped me enjoy and benefit from the down time.   I’m thankful for the perspective.

Here’s a picture of my digs.   It certainly helps to have a cozy place, a great roommate and a friendly cat (!!) around:

I’m anxious to get down South and I’m ready to pounce on the restaurant should an opportunity present itself.  It’s time to create success on my terms, not anyone else’s.

Let’s rock, y’all!


The Politics of Dancing

I made a somewhat drunken Facebook post last night urging Mitt (“Mittens”) Romney to hurry up and give his concession speech, calling him a sore loser.   Someone, perhaps rightly, indirectly called me out on it this morning, saying that we all needed to “turn the page” and, in effect, move on.

But I’m having a difficult time “turning the page” and moving on.   I can’t find it within myself to act like this is some sort of a game, that the words and actions I’ve seen over the past 4 years are something to just be forgotten.  No, it’s much more serious.

It’s hard for me to be a gracious winner when the losing party:

  • espouses lying and deceit as the foundation for the majority of its arguments.
  • refuses to acknowledge empirical evidence – impartial, scientific evidence –  that mankind is systematically warming the planet, putting our entire existence at stake.   That’s our economical, religious, moral, social, communal, sexual, existence — the whole ball of wax.  In fact, their candidate laughed at  the notion.
  • swindles its followers into believing that economic breaks for the most well-off are something that will benefit the least well-off;   that everyone in this country is equipped and able to lift themselves up by their bootstraps, nevermind the ones who have no boots at all; that helping those less economically fortunate is somehow stealing from those of us lucky enough to live well; that we have an inalienable right to be rich and screw those who can’t achieve that.
  • stokes the embers of racism to further its political agenda and candidates.
  • denies women the right to make their own choices regarding their reproductive health.
  • believes that their God, their Christian God, the one who sent his only son to  this earth to teach us to love each other as we would love ourselves, is the only viable God and all others (and their followers) are agents of Satan.
  • believes that revisions to our system of health care are somehow Socialist in nature and that, once again, taking care of those who cannot provide for themselves is not a moral imperative.
  • ignores what our Founding Fathers laid out in the Constitution, that this is a land of laws, of equality, of opportunity for all.
  • lies to the country about the reasons to enter into war.
  • would deny its own family members the same rights they enjoy.

No, I can’t be the gracious winner.  Not yet.  Not until I see the losing party practice the Judeo-Christian beliefs it promotes.   Not until I see the losing party adhere to our Constitution.  Not until I see the losing party abandon the ugly policies of hate and exclusion.


Idlewild

It’s one thing to visit for a weekend or even a week in November, December, January or  March. But it’s quite another to live here after the season ends.   I really like October:  the days are still warm, the nights cool, seasonal people are still around, there are entertainment and dining options and the town is still in its collective “Season’s Over” sigh.

But come the day after Halloween, this place clears out and begins its shutdown.   For me, it’s all new.   I left last year on November 2nd and headed back to Atlanta to start new things.   Although it’s only the 5th, there aren’t so many new things to be starting or immediate trips South to get ready for.  Nope, I’m in a quasi-dormant mode.

And I’ve Got To Get Used To It.

So far, I’d give myself a B minus.  I got settled in to the Cottage, it’s lovely and snug and things are nice.  I started Yoga class just before Halloween and that’s something  I’m enjoying.   There’s lots of thinking about what comes next….serious soul searching and strategizing and mental planning.  I’ve been riding and going to the gym with some regularity.  Clamming season opened Sunday.   We’re going tomorrow early to hang “Get Out and Vote” hangars on registered voters’ doors.   There’s a wedding of friends in two weeks.   An off-Cape trip is planned for the weekend.

And then there’s the other half of the day….I’m relearning to concentrate enough to read a long magazine article.   I’ll finish a book soon.   I’m thinking of things to write and cook.   I’m taking time to have real conversations with the one or two people I meet on the street.   Slow is good, I guess.   As I told a friend the other day, I’m going to enjoy this month and make the most of it.   Let’s see what I can learn.


Move Out

So today I move out of the tiny studio I’ve affectionately called The Sail Locker for the past two summers.   The stated plan is to stay in PTown until just prior to Christmas, wrap up a business plan then head South for a few weeks.  Lack of funds and lack of activity may speed that process up.  We shall see.

I am, however, excited about my temporary new digs.   I’m sharing a sweet little cottage in the center of town with my friend Julia.  She’s Chef II for those of you keeping track.  As most things go here, we kinda lucked into this place;  it belongs to her landlord and he needs to do work to her place so we’re all shifting abodes.   It will be nice have people around as opposed to living down here on the Far East End (which is quite deserted this time of year).

The Sail Locker has a been a special place for me.   It’s helped me on to Round 2 of my life.  It’s provided shelter and sustenance.   There’s been great sex within these walls.  I’ve made food for others and myself in its teeny, tiny “Barbie Junior Size” kitchenette.  It’s hosted friends and family.  I’ve cried, laughed, cursed, worried and slept here.   I’ve made friends with my immediate neighbors and met some amazing people on the block.  I love my landlord.  It’s been home.   And I shall miss it.