Sylvia's Journal

The classes are over. Axel has to show something for it: two etched plates, one with an oak leaf and one with clouds, plus several passes of prints. I have nothing to show for my classes (I forgot to pick up my certificate) except 7 pages of scribbles, some new brain circuitry not visible to the naked eye and two business cards of women I may want to see again, one a judge in western Massachusetts and the other in charge of learning and OD at the Board of Governors of the FRB.

We kayaked twice, I biked every day, we had fish every day, and we slept so-so every night, had rain three of the 6 nights and one and a half days out of our six and a half days of camping. I think it may not have been the last time. Next year I may want to take an art class too.

We broke camp on Friday morning before the rain and before classes, leaving the big tarp up to keep the rest of our belongings dry. At 2:30 we had packed every remaining piece of gear and equipment and were on the road to New York City.

At 3:15 PM we were off the Cape, over the Sagamore Bridge. At 4:30 we were at the Bourne Bridge, a mere 2.8 miles from the Sagamore Bridge. We had wanted to be in NYC for a 8:30 dinner but our GPS indicated that now we’d arrive at 9:30. The trip that should have taken about five and a half hours took us more than 8 hours. Knowing we’d miss dinner in Brooklyn Heights we stopped at a Fusion restaurant somewhere in CT, that had advertised itself as ‘fabulous décor, good cheap food,’ with lots of positive reviews.

Naively we stopped (as naively has having taken route MA 6 West that stopped us in our tracks) and had dinner. The fruit, non-descript soup and crab legs were OK, nothing much to go wrong on, but Axel was more adventurous and came to regret it soon after we got back on the road.

We entered NYC in the rain but then all our worries were over. We even found a parking spot around the corner of our host, and all was well again. The Zugmsith Society’s 30th reunion was in full swing.