Back from my third trip to Wellfleet this year.  Stayed at the brick house condo - Beach Rose, across the street from Mayo beach.  We hadn't stayed there since 2008.  The year before I was working on an apron for a Christmas present for Ria, the days of the week, with a Black Mammy baking a cake, hanging up clothes, going shopping, going to church, it covered all seven days.  There was a Black woman staying in one of the nearby cottages,  beautiful woman that sang opera all the time.  Anyway I was so careful not to let her see what I was working on - didn't want to offend her.  Ria loved that apron and wore it on Christmas Day.

But this year there was something new, solar panels and a constant noise.  The first day we searched for the sound, the noise like a motor running, or a pump, or a hot water heater.  Timmy kept saying he couldn't hear it, but the next morning he said it had kept him awake all the night.  That is when I spotted the solar panels on the roof and we figured it out.  That was the source of our noise.  So that was different.  And at the Oysterfestival there were drones photographing the event.  That was different.  Every time one was spotted the audience turned away from the stage, lifting phones, taking pictures, waving to the little plane darting over our heads.  One man said, "Oh, God, I hope my wife doesn't see me - she thinks I'm in the office."

On the Cape, as at home, we were listening to P.G. Wodehouse's Jeeves and Wooster every night.  If you haven't read or heard these stories, you really have to - they make you laugh right out loud.  Anyway, I was working on my latest pillow on the beach, warm sun, bay as calm as a pond - my favorite thing to do, embroidery at the beach, drinking a beer.  A couple walked by and the man said, in a perfect English Wooster accent, "nice spot to do your stitchery".   Made me smile.  Stitchery. I think that must be what heaven is like, a warm sun, the sound of waves, a cold beer and some stitchery. 

A few weeks ago the reading at church was from "the book of wisdom" which I thought was amusing.  I mean who would want to hear from "the book of stupidity", or "the book of foolishness".  But then on the ride home I passed a house with a sign in the front lawn "Repeal the Safe Act".  What do they want?  "The Unsafe Act". "The dangerous Act", the "Kill the People Act"?

Last Friday Sabra went to Central Park to wait with thousands of people to see the Pope ride by.  Security was high, the fear in the back of everyone's minds was "Don't let some crazy person shoot the Pope".  And no one did.  No one even tried, as far as we know.  But you would have to wonder, if they had, would that make a difference in this country?  Killing movie goers didn't, killing first graders didn't, killing church goers didn't.  Would a Pope make the difference? 

This summer there is a show on television about animals going crazy, and I think it is happening here as well.  This morning there was a wood chuck ON THE DECK checking out the parsley in a pot that's been there since May.  Then I went to get the paper and there was a skunk right outside the door.  He looked at me and then calmly walked away, but that could have been a disaster.

Yesterday a piliated woodpecker screamed around the house all morning.  Now I always say, "There's Ria" but yesterday, I was saying "What's the matter Ria?"  Like Lassie, I expected the woodpecker to lead me to someone in distress.

I guess it's the heat - terrible humidity, and even the pool doesn't provide the relief you were expecting.  But the tomatoes love the heat, everyday there are more and more of them.  Today I put them in bags and leave them on doorsteps, little surprises for the neighbors. 

Next week I will be in Wellfleet again, kind of a last minute vacation with my sisters.  Then in October it is the Oysterfest and another week in my favorite place.  But lets not go to far.  First things first, get rid of Mr. Woodchuck under the deck. 

We had our last Mass here in St. Sylvia's Church on Sunday.  I was amazed when I drove up, not only was my usual parking spot gone, the whole lot was full, and cars lined both sides of the street.  I found a parking spot and hurried in to see what was going on.  The church was packed, mostly with people I never saw before, but the usual 20 of my fellow regular churchgoers were found among the crowd. There was an organist, and a woman  that would later sing Ave Maria and my favorite where the chorus is Oh Maria, and Salve, salve, salve Regina.  The two usual priests were on the altar, but there was an altar boy and the priest from St. Christopher's, which will be our new parish.

I did get to sit in my usual pew, but I shared with it three other people, all strangers.  Our priest talked on and on, giving the whole history of the church, quoted all the words from Camelot, and then the song the Von Trapp girls sang - "So long, goodbye, auf vedeshein", got in a few digs about "All things news" and  prayed that this beautiful church would not become another restaurant or bistro.

We ended with everyone singing from a handout sheet, "Auld Lang Syne" and I saw more than one person pull out a handkerchief.  So that's that - that beautiful church modeled after a French one, donated by a local wealthy family, whose son was cured at Lourdes, which served all the poor Irish immigrants, working on the railroad, all those baptisms, marriages, First Communions, funerals, all those memories will never happen again.  Sad day for Tivoli, sad day for the Catholic Church.

The turkeys are back, so I thought I would come back too.  Two mothers, one with two small babies, one with seven larger babies.  Today I saw one mother climb onto a high stump and watched as the babies tried to get up, half jumping and half flying.  This must be how they learn to fly.  No nest in a tree to push them out of. 

The Farmer's Almanac has a turkey story for July.  I love the Almanac, full of interesting information,  unlike the internet, there is no need to search, it's just there.  For example, July has two full moons, the first yesterday was the "full buck" moon, on the 31st, it will be the "full thunder" moon, a blue moon. This happens every 2 1/2 tears on an average (another tidbit from the almanac).  July loses19 minutes of daylight from the beginning to the end and in 2005 Jake the dog swam in annual 1.25 mile race from Alcatraz to San Francisco.

Bucky always said "after the fourth of July, the summer is over", a saying that would bring disgust, school just was out, how could it be over?  Yet, time has proven her right again, the summer will fly, like the baby turkeys, and we will be back in reality.

Reading through Aunt Lillian's old diaries and have found some things I want to share with you.  I especially liked this:  April 13, 1999 "our 58th wedding anniversary.  The weather was just like this A.M. Easter Sunday.  Margaret and Ang Fusi dressed me in Margaret's wedding gown at Angie's house.  It was a gorgeous gown.  Handmade lace princess style coat over heavy white satin.  The lace was made by women in Italy who did that at their homes and very few women left to do it now.  That lace would be worth a fortune now.  Margaret loaned it to Betty Randall for her wedding and we never knew what happened to it.  It would never go out of style.

Margaret & Gene were our attendants. The church was so beautifully decorated for Easter.  The priest gave us a special blessing that as we were blessed with all the beautiful flowers in church without cost, we would enjoy such blessings in our life and we did.  We sure needed those blessing.  Me in my borrowed gown and only the clothes I left the " blessed Beacon View" with on my back.

Then a poem:
You got to go to that lonesome valley,
You gotta go there by yourself.
Ain't no one can go there with you,
You gotta go they by yourself.
I'm not afraid of dying, I just don't want to be there when it happens.

And a joke:  2 men sitting in diner having coffee.  Ed noticed something funny about Joe's ear.
He said, "Joe, did you know you have a suppository in your left ear?"

'"I have?" replied Joe.  "A suppository?" and he pulled it out and looked t it hard and said, "Jeez Ed, I'm glad you saw this thing! Now I know where my hearing aid is!"

Tony's mother Sybil died last night.  Years ago when Ria was a baby, she was quite sick and I took her to the doctor's office. When I left the office I met my mother waiting for me outside.  I was probably over tired from staying up all night with a sick baby, and I blurted out that I was afraid she was going to die.  My mother shook her head and told me "It's not that easy to die", words that Sybil proved.  She survived every downfall, broken hips, blood clots, infections, etc.  Sabra and Tony were with her yesterday and one nurse told them that she was a favorite "a real lady".  And she was.

Whenever she visited Sabra, she was carefully groomed, hair done, makeup done, jewelry, a beautiful girl in pictures. a beautiful older woman.  When she had to use a cane, she named it (a doctor had suggested that she would be able to remember where she left it, if the cane was named.)  So she named it Napoleon.  When she had to use a walker, it was decorated with colorful bows. 

Sybil was 94 years old when she died.  A real warrior.  A real lady.  Rest in peace Sybil.