This is my first week on Cape Cod without company. No, seriously. We’ve had company of some sort or another for nearly 22 days straight and more set to arrive at the end of the week. I guess that is one of the hazards of living where people want to vacation.
Don’t get me wrong, I love my family and friends, but I crave . . . desire . . . absolutely need my own space. Maybe it’s the slightly imbalanced writer in me. So to reward myself for not completely losing it on my guests I did what most year-round residents never do during the height of the tourist season – I went to the beach. I grabbed some pizzas, a jug of lemonade, the kids sand toys, and headed down to the beach for dinner.
Much to my surprise, about forty minutes into my cherished unwind time my husband showed up, dessert and wine in tow. The sheer fact that he came spoke volumes. See my husband doesn’t do crowds or sand – funny since it was his desire to live at the Beach Mecca of the East Coast. He handed out dessert and sank into the chair next to me with nothing more then a smile and a fantastic and well appreciated offer of Merlot. With the exception of the intermittent “where are the kids” comment we didn’t speak, just sat there staring out over the ocean.
It was a good ending to a crazy three weeks. Now I'm off to clean the house, scour my cookbooks for more entertaining recipes, and have everything in place for when the next round of house guests arrives on Friday. Wish me luck!