Labor Day weekend, the end of summer, how does it happen so fast?  Back from Cape Cod, the wisteria on the Bird's Nest has grown tendrils three feet long, Maria's grave is a mixture of flowers, sunflowers that are tall as I am, cosmos, pink and white, also tall, zinnias -large and small, marigolds, the same, large and small.  The plants are so thick that today a rabbit was hiding among the flowers and I didn't see him until he ran out when I watered.

Cape Cod's two weeks flew by - the first week with Sabra and family, Maureen there until Wednesday.  O'Leary's yearly visit, the girls prettier than ever, John and Debbie carrying cases of beer for us.  This year Samuel Adams, Maureen favored the blueberry summer mixture and both Maureen and I enjoyed the fundador in bed so much that the bottle was emptied way too soon.  The second week Diane, Kathy, Sarah and year old Orson filled the cabin - Orson exploring every corner but my bedroom.  Considering that he might feel the presence of a ghost, I tried to coax him in, and after I did, it became his favorite spot to explore, finding the Anisette [fundador replacement], opening it and spilling it on his shirt.  Just like licorice.  Like every kid he loved the beach, sand and waves.  We all did.

The water was wonderful, warm and very swimmable, we had a full moon, and the first night there we had fireworks as Wellfleet celebrated its 250 birthday.  Beautiful fireworks sitting on the beach, right in front of the cabin.  Lots of seafood from Hatches, lobsters, clams, steamers, smoked bluefish and the big scallop surrounded with roe.  Also, Sushi and really good pizzas, and clam chowder from the Lighthouse that got an A+ from Diane, Kathy and me.  But back to reality.  People three days this weekend as Bard's students return, another sign of the passing of summer.  In less than a week I'll be on Sabra's porch watching Henry get on the school bus.  Well, I do have Oysterfest to look forward to in October.  The way things are going, it will be here before I know it.

Just back from a trip to the Tivoli thrift shop.  Stressful, completely different from what it used to be, even a few months back.  Years ago, the thrift shop was a fun place to go - most of the people in Tivoli were on tight budgets so it was a great place to find kids' clothes, a really nice, cheap dress for a wedding, tablecloths, and more than once, Christmas gifts.  We all knew each other, and would hold up an unusually ugly item, or a sexy item, and everyone would laugh and comment on it.  It was leisurely, you took time, going through the clothes, books and toys.  No more.  Now it is filled with dealers, frantically making piles to resell, examining labels, not worried about size, it's not for them, it's all for how little can I pay for this, and then, how much can I resell it for.  It doesn't matter that the thrift shop is run by the church, it's all money, money, money.  The ladies that used to work the desk knew everyone by name, and if you held up a shirt with missing buttons, or a stain, it could be repriced.  No more, shirts and blouses are identified in some unknown way to me.  I thought it was a shirt I held in my hand, she called it a blouse, and the price doubled.  However, the dealers are welcomed warmly and they can get the prices down.  Sabra says bag day is worth while, but I think the greed would overwhelm me, people cramming things tightly in overstuffed bags.

It's like what happened at the yard sale we had last week.  Every year Tivoli has a yard sale day, the whole town fills their yard with everything imaginable.  Our piles were like everyone else, clothes no longer fitting, toys out grown, dishes from the cellar, you name it.  Most of the people wandered through, picking up some things.  And then three men came into the yard.  They went through a box of books, one pulling out a device that he checked each of the books with.  Then they went to the toys, again checking the hand held device.  "What are they doing?",  I asked Sabra, and she explained that that device was telling them the value of the book, or the toy.  "You see them all the time at book sales, Ma", she said.  "They're dealers and they're looking for buys."  One game had them really excited and it was on the free table.  One looked a little embarrassed when he picked it up and said, "Now I will have to buy something".  They were most interested in the games and I heard one say, that is was missing only three pieces and they could find another game that had those three pieces and it would be worth....try as I could I couldn't hear the amount.

Later that night I was thinking about the device, technology, how in a yard in Tivoli you were connected with the internet and could find a resale value on E-Bay. Years ago Maria had found a Beatles game at the Red Hook thrift shop.  It was a colorform, you remember, they would stick on a page, and could be rearranged over and over again.  Well, after she bought it, she looked on Ebay and one like it was selling for hundreds of dollars.  She did sell it at a nice profit (I  think it cost her a dollar) but she donated money to the thrift shop after she was paid.  That was the joy of it.  You didn't really know what was the worth of what you were buying, so you bought it and then looked it up.  What a shame we've lost it.  What a shame the thrift shop changed.