Everybody's Coming to Wellfleet

The week began with a slow sweet rain that lasted quite a long time. That meant we were freed from watering for several days – a much appreciated hiatus. Then it turned back to hot, hot and humid. To get outside now, I need to do it before breakfast, before most everything. By 9:30, the heat is back.

The Cape is quite crowded making it hard to get anywhere. Accidents every day. Route 6 frequently becomes just a long narrow parking lot. P B boulangerie sells out everything by 1 pm. Town is jammed.  Just try to park. People walk out between cars to cross the street in town center so we fear hitting some visiting idiot.

I pushed very hard this week on THE HOUR OF MY DEATH and finished the 6th draft. I’ll take a week off, then go through looking at all the poems in the manuscript—proof the poem, is it in the right place? Is there an uncollected or new poem that would be a better fit? Dale is proofing my book on Mondays and is more than half way through. He is doing a meticulous job I really appreciate that.

I try to catch repetitions, but I miss a number or smaller ones that he catches and then I fix.

My chosen daughter Melenie is coming by this afternoon for a brief visit. That’s so much better than communicating by phone or electronically. She can only stay briefly as she and Jay are off to Northern Ireland. Jay’s one-person play is being produced in Belfast. After that, they will probably be sightseeing.

Sunday @ 2 pm, one of the poets who took the workshop is coming by with her daughter. She’s the 4th of my students to visit so far this summer. Everybody’s coming to Wellfleet. I just pureed pattypans after cooking them and now I’ll freeze  them for a supper in the winter.  I add curry and turmeric and usually cream – not always.

I’ve begun making, using and freezing pesto. I made a herbed lemony pasta salad this morning that we can eat for two days at room temperature. One night I was so exhausted from finishing the book that I didn’t feel like cooking, so Woody got a pizza at the Flying Fish in town. It was a big treat for me. Woody occasionally has it with friends Monday evenings when I’m mediating but I seldom get it.

I was exhausted the day after I finished the 6th draft, but now I’m working on my office and trying to catch up on everything that I neglected while writing so much of the time and using so much of my energy. I’ve let my office become a room Woody is reluctant to walk into.