Sally’s Blog
A Gallery For the New Year
The image above was taken at in Encinitas, a town about ten miles north of us, a major garden center. Though I’m no gardener myself, prowling its nurseries and San Diego Botanic Garden are ongoing joys, and this one is from a nursery specializing in koi and...
The Never-Christmas Cottage
As a child, I used to read this verse on the cover of the family photo album. Now I would add a line: “old places”—and one old place in particular, our Craigville cottage of which I wrote in A Place Like This. Yet we never celebrated Christmas there. All...
Attached Baggage
Selecting the photographs for my website refresh, I’ve been looking over images from the past several years. On a first round, the raspberries above joined another food photo of mine: sauteed onions which looked so inviting that I wanted to dip right in and take a...
Charge
Griffin Island, Wellfleet, Cape Cod National Seashore. I had made it to the crest of the dune after a climb in two-steps-forward-one-step-back sand, when whoosh! I was almost blown off my feet. I must have shimmied, but after a few steps down toward the...
Booking the Trip
By the time you read this, I’ll be crossing (or have crossed) the United States headed for Boston and—of course—Cape Cod. I am traveling to promote A Place Like This and to see family and friends. Almost to the day since Andy and I said goodbye to...
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
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
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...