Cape Cod

July 19. On the Cape.  Massachusetts has proven to have the worst drivers, it is not confined to Boston. Dunkin Donuts regular coffee is with cream and sugar, not black.  I found out the hard way, with Rich returning his coffee. Who knew?
 
July 21. Sitting on the beach, bundled in sweatshirts and under towels, we marvel at the fortitude of children. They race and jump in the 60 degree water screaming in either delight or chill. The beach hasn't been crowded, due to overcast, chilly, even rainy weather the past three days. Still, we make the pilgrimage to the beach daily. We can hear the surf from our rented 'camp' for it certainly doesn't qualify as a cottage or home. Not in the Cape Cod sense. It lacks the weathered grey shingles, blue shutters and white trim.  Nor does it have hydrangeas lining the yard. Hydrangeas of all colors, red magenta to pinks and deep purple, blues as deep as the sea and pale as the sky. Certainly it is someone's home, but in terms of updating for rental appeal, it makes no apologies. It is a seventies original; the stove and dishwasher, the robin's egg blue formica counter and the wood paneling are a testament to its origin. Even much of the furniture speaks of its nascence. The bathrooms and white washed paneling speak of an attempt to update it. It works fine for us, despite the interminable musty, fecund smell that accompanies most older beach homes. We love the surf echoing in our windows lulling us to sleep, and we loathe the noisy dehumidifier that cycles outside of our window.

The best part, of course, is family. Three of Rich's siblings are here, and five of Reese and Ruby's cousins. Reese and Danny are seven years apart and allied by their gender, being the only two boys.

The kids all generally get along, and on the beach if they aren't swimming/boogie boarding they are digging holes, making sand animals or sitting with us watching for seals and sea lions. The sea lions frequent Nauset Beach, spying on swimmers as they parallel the surf. They seem quite cute and curious from afar.

We wind up the day at the McMansion rental in a neighborhood not far from us. It is a large house where everyone else is staying.  We take turns making dinner, the kid's movie trying to out blare our Pandora. It turns into a bunch of yelling at the table, with the movie on one side and the music on the other before an adult breaks the stalemate.

There is the usual sibling bantering but without serious zingers. Three adults are from New York City, two from upstate New York and us westerners. Once again commonality prevails and I, for one feel so fortunate to have such people be my family. Especially for my children. I feel blessed.