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The Windmill

Dragonfly shopping for earrings

Indira Ganesan, Dragonfly shopping for earrings, 2015

Eastham windmill

Eastham windmill

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Sometimes you have to get out of traffic.  I was stopped at a red light, in the odious stretch of cars on a Thursday -let’s -go -to -the -Cape -Cod -House,-darling, and the Man, -I -am -getting -out -before -the -tourists -arrive.  Okay, I am probably who still says “man.”  Regardless, I was waiting on a light.  A young woman and her daughter where behind the fence of what looked like a Crafts Fair, squatting on the grass (or maybe sitting, I don’t know) and watching the traffic.  I rolled down my window (AC) and asked if it was a Craft Fair.  Yeah, she said, It’s good, thinking that’s what I asked.  The light was still red, so on green, I made the turn, found amazing parking (getting out was another story) and hopped on out.

The fair was on the site of the Eastham Windmill,  a mill that ground corn driven by horse and wind power.

This was a good craft art fair, part of the Wellfleet Oyster Fest.  The first booth I stopped by had beautiful stained glass and shells; another had garden stakes made out of knitting needles topped by glass art shaped like dragonflies and butterflies. It also had a very much alive dragonfly who inspected the earrings with me.  The third, where I lingered the longest, where I wish I had bought something, where I might go back and do just that, featured mobiles made of stone and recycled bottles.  Think Calder, not Woodstock.  Beautifully crafted, the artist said yes, she loved making the work, and having something balanced as well.  I am going back. I wish Sandra Bland could as well.

Summer Reading

Girl Reading

Girl Reading

Summer is a lawn and an umbrella, and books to read.  All the books you couldn’t get to all year.  Summer allows for trips to the bookstore, trips to the library, all in good weather.  This summer, I am tackling War & Peace again, only this time I plan to read all the war sections. So far Napoleon has made an appearance, and a favorite character who was single in one chapter appears in the next not only married, but with a marriage on the skids.  In between courses of the big tome, I happily read Emma Straub’s The Vacationers and Hanna Pylvainen’s We Sinners.  Before, it was Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies, which made me sink into all thirty-eight episodes of “The Tudors,” a show which if not as intellectually compelling as Mantel, was colorfully addictive.  There are the books I didn’t make through last year, and the new ones I am placing in my mind’s reserve shelf.  Boundless summer, that has so much reading in it!


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