Sylvia's Journal

It is nice when you have an illustrator in the family because the notes you find in the morning on the counter are so much fun. Sita returned from a week in New York, finished off with a weekend in Northampton while we were on the Cape.

Yesterday morning was another glorious day in North Truro. We went for a walk along the beach in Wellfleet, Atlantic side, where a 19th century shipwreck had washed up on the shore in a January storm. It was our first serious walk on a sandy beach since July. Before then we had taken such walks for granted but now we realize they are hard on the body; sturdy shoes helped and we kept the walk short, much too short as far as Abby was concerned. We also wanted to be back before a memorial service, set up on top of the dune, would start so we did not have to walk across the aisle in the middle of the service. On the beach below several shrines were set up for the fallen friend. We could tell from the items in the shrine that he was a surfer, a pirate, liked roses and used lipbalm. By the time we had climbed back onto the dune the parking lot had flled up with a large crowd of mourners.

We went to the Lighthouse café in Wellfleet to have a second, more substantive breakfast and then parted ways. On the long way home Axel finally succumbed to the allergy medication, taken as a preventive measure for dealing with seasonal and animal-induced allergies. He drifted in and out of sleep while I kept myself awake listening to Cervantes’ storytelling about chivalry and damsels in distress, some 400 years ago in Spain (we women have come a long way!). In the background was the loud and rythmic humming of the wind streaming by the boat on our carroof.

Although I would have loved to put the boat into the water, the low tide and choppy ocean conspired against me. I also have to solve the issue of how to get into the boat without getting my feet wet as we have no nice dock like the rowing club has. And the water is still very cold

I prepared dinner while on the phone with Ankie from Brussels, catching up on the things not written in my blog. We will be seeing each other soon and often, as distances do not seem to matter much these days. We will meet at a reunion of my maternal grandmother’s family on Saturday in a place in Holland that is full of childhood memories.