A local holiday not shown on any calendar

The unofficial holiday for those of us who live on the Cape year round is the day after Labor Day.  That’s when gridlock eases, we may actually go to the beach, we can get our mail and shop without allowing an extra hour to what normally takes 20 minutes, and we can park in town.  People who looked and were grumpy by the time August dragged to its hot and humid end will greet you with a big grin. It isn’t that people don’t vacation in September and October here.  Actually that’s the nicest time of year.  There are far less tourists and visitors.  Many who come then are people with houses here who rented them out in the summer and now are using them.  It’s a gross generalization but they are less crazed than the summer people, less dangerous [everybody here has experienced an accident or near accident from somebody with a car full of screaming kids suddenly noticing a restaurant or attraction on the left while driving in the right lane and suddenly driving through your lane to get relief], often far more ecologically oriented.  Less apt to toss garbage out the window onto what we regard as pristine landscape. No one will park on a curve on a narrow winding country road to get out and pick blueberries or wildflowers or watch a bluebird through binoculars. Or walk or bike three or four abreast on the same narrow winding road. People on vacation sometimes seem to think where they are staying is not a real place where real things can happen to real people – including them. It’s also bluefish season.  Not everybody loves bluefish.  Some do, some don’t. I find them too strongly flavored unless baked in something that cuts the oiliness. But they can be tasty if properly prepared. They are aggressive predators.  By the dike you see fish jumping from the water in Wellfleet Bay. That’s because they are trying to escape being eaten by bluefish that hang around there.  So for that matter do the great blue herons early in the morning, also fishing. We actually went to a beach to have a picnic supper and watch the sun set in Massachusetts Bay.  You find most local people never get to the beaches in the summer.  Mostly people are working more than full time to make their nut. Also the beaches are crowded and parking fills up by 10 a.m.  If we go, it tends to be in the evening. But in September, the beaches are ours.  In the summer often we rotisserie a chicken Sunday night and then I make chicken salad from the rest of it for some time during the week.  We brought chicken salad, a cold Graves, our tomatoes and some local potato chips and relaxed.  Came home in time to see most of the last  preseason game of the Patriots.  Guys playing for a roster spot and mostly not getting one. Getting ready to go off to Ithaca NY where on Saturday we headline a festival to launch an anthology of tributes to Adrienne Rich.  It’s an odd festival – lots of food, belly dancers, musicians and us.  We are fond of Ithaca so look forward to being there, however briefly.  The poet organizing the festival and editing the anthology is Kathryn Howd Machan.  We’ve known her for years.  A fine poet and teacher at Ithaca College.  We’ve done a miniresidency with her there. Ira is doing many readings for his new book You’re Married to Her.  He was overnight in Brookline Thursday night to read at the Brookline Booksmith, always a great place to read.  He brought back kosher chicken cubes and knishes of various flavors.  We shared some immediately with friends in the gazebo [which has holes in the roof now and somehow we have to get it fixed.] When we get back, I need to start thinking about the High Holidays and examining my life: always a thoughtful and humbling time. I finished a new short story yesterday.  Don’t like the title, but it will do for the moment. I’ll try to get time to revise it this week before we go off to Ithaca.  ‘m working on a couple new poems.  The canning is done for the year and enough beans are frozen and probably enough peppers.  Labor Day, great day.  Bring on the fall!