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Thursday, November 7, 2013

Cranberry Highway

I still remember the notes I found in my mother's night table drawer--in her script, details about how long the drive to the Cape took, a traffic backup due to a parade, how we kids behaved.

Today Punch and I left Montclair at 11:40 a.m. and we got to our Eastham hotel by about 6. It was rainy most of the way, and I was tired, wishing H. were in the driver's seat not just for company, but so that I could snatch a cat nap.

As anticipated, she must have asked me "How much longer?" at least 100 times. But we loved listening to Petula Clark on CD.

Near the end of our journey, signs pointing toward the familiar: Bourne Bridge, Mashpee, Sandwich, Cranberry Highway, Orleans, Provincetown, Hyannis--and of course, ROTARY, which always seems like a foreign way to say traffic circle, no matter how many times I come. Punch has been to the Cape with me and mine at least three times before, but was too young then to remember those visits now.

I'm glad to be here. Ordered seared cod for dinner and am about to take a hot bath while she drifts off to sleep on the little pullout sofa. I look forward to returning to nature and was happy to get a call from Figgy in Maine, reporting that she was hired for one of the Montclair jobs she applied for. That should be a step in the right direction as she finds her way.

Good night.

TCOY
  1. Asked H. to take Punch to 8:30 dr. appt so I could shower and pack in peace.
  2. Ate a Honeycrisp apple. Yes I did.
  3. Ice water.
  4. About to polish my nails. Finally.




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