Holy Ground

Holy Ground

When I speak or write of Cape Cod, seldom is it an accident or about a place “where I just happened to be.” To me, the Cape is holy ground, where I “take off my shoes” with  reverence. And anything I write or think about Cape Cod, anything that takes place there, any...
Blueberries for Sally

Blueberries for Sally

In my childhood, blueberries were always a summer fruit. Only a summer fruit. Now I see them in the supermarket every time I go.   Oh, if you were lucky, you might go picking in some rural or country location; I never found this as romantic an activity as...
Humidity

Humidity

Oh, yes, it’s going to be one of those mornings! Either rain fell during the night and the clouds linger, or just a foggy day. Getting dressed, I wrap my bra round my chest, then hook it in the back. Ugh, the fabric’s damp already. Tee-shirt and shorts feel no...
Greenward

Greenward

When I’m asked what I miss about Cape Cod, or  when I’m not there, how do I envision it? What do I look back to?  Sandy beaches, rippling water? Quaint cottages next to a picturesque harbor, perhaps, or great seafood, light houses, to name a few. Oh, pretty towns, old...
The Mother Dish

The Mother Dish

I was making potato salad for my family’s Mother’s Day get-together when the thought surfaced. Was there ever a time I didn’t know how to make potato salad? . . . Surely there must have been a first time. But I don’t remember one, let alone ever consulting a recipe. I...

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