A short post this time, since it is already Monday. I woke up early today (stupid insomnia) so have some time before work. The birds are singing and the morning light is beautiful. I’m feeling a bit diffuse. I had a lovely weekend, but am also feeling like I am doing too many things on too many fronts and am behind on all of them. And how can it be June already? I did some gardening this weekend (which itself has many fronts), and spent a bit of time working on my piano accompaniment, and I rang handbells and sang and handed out parting gifts at the send-off service for Old South’s music director and assistant pastor. But the large chunk of this glorious early-summer weekend was devoted to friends and family and Rockport (and martinis!), and rightly so.
Rockport is one of my favorite places, and full of happy associations. For those of you who are non-locals, Rockport is a picturesque lobster fishing port / artists’ enclave / tourist destination on the rocky outcropping of Cape Ann, about forty minutes from my house. My mom always loved going to Rockport when she came to visit, because it reminded her of Whitby, England (our cat’s namesake). I went there many times when the kids were very young and I only worked half time, and have fond memories of time there with Charlotte and Jerry and other family. Kira and I like to go there together to swim at the beach, clamber out along the bouldery breakfront, and eat lobster and ice cream.
Driving to Rockport reminds me strongly of trips to Stillwater when I was a kid in Minnesota. On lovely weekend afternoons, Mom would say “Ooh, do you fancy a run out to Stillwater?”, and we’d all squeeze into Dad’s Pontiac Firebird with the T-top open and take the scenic route through rolling farmland to the beautiful town on the banks of the Saint Croix river (on the border between Minnesota and Wisconsin). We’d stroll along the river, poke our noses in quaint shops, and get the most delicious enormous milkshakes at Brine’s restaurant. A drive out to Rockport is like that for me, though now in my Mini Cooper with the sun roof open, and I’m the one saying “Ooh, do you fancy a run out to Rockport?”. (On Saturday it was in Rebecca’s Mazda Miata convertible with the roof down – a real treat!)
Halibut Point State Park is nearby, the site of a former granite quarry and a great place to clamber over rocks and watch the waves crash into them. I love that place, too, when we have time.
I was really lucky to spend Saturday afternoon exploring Halibut Point and Rockport and catching up with my friend Rebecca, who is just returned from back to back globe-trotting adventures. And then to head back to Rockport on Sunday evening with my family for our traditional lobster, ice cream and breakwater clambering, complete with gorgeous late sunset. It is nice to be close to summer solstice!
I was even luckier to have a nice girls’ night with friends Saturday evening at my place, a direct result of the very kind response to my self-pitying post from a few weeks ago. We ate dinner on our deck, joined by Charlotte and Kira, surrounded by pretty flowering weeds, jasmine and a very happy kousa dogwood, and then walked over to Venetian Moon for tasty martinis. It was really, really lovely. It was even worth the effort of cooking (I am a rather indifferent cook)! It turns out a frittata with onions, bacon, spinach, potatoes and Welsh cheddar is rather scrumptious.
I feel a bit boasty writing about such lovely happy things, but I figure that part of being myself here is sharing the ups as well as the downs. I have a lot on my plate for work this week. The weekend friends, family and sunshine were the boost I needed. Thank you!
Reflections and Resolutions 