1) Sunday really could be described as a low-energy day for a few reasons: the weather (rainy and gray), the physical aftermath of the White Party (rainy and gray), and my inmost soul contemplating the end of summer (rainy and gray).
2) My host, in spite of his own rainy grayness (if any), produced a perfect little breakfast as if it was nothing: tomato and cheese omelette, saffron rice, and cinnamon toast. And blessed coffee. My mind had only room for appreciation of this bounteous, perfect breakfast (see #1). Wow.
3) Delighted that a friend came over to visit, and the three of us sat around quite a bit talking about this and that.
4) Attempts to return to sleep about noon getting me nowhere (see coffee, above), I made a masterful effort to get going and sallied forth into town along about 2 in the afternoon. My steps took me to B** & J****'s, for a large bourbon brown butter, and I savored every bite, every drop, every morsel. Not even their Pulp Addiction (chocolate orange) ice cream of Sainted Memory comes close to it. Om nom nom.
In the Biography section at Tim's Used Books, Provincetown.
4) So often at Tim's Used Books I find the perfect book I didn't even know I was looking for. And this time, after browsing no little time, I found Florence Foster Jenkins: The Life of the World's Worst Opera Singer, by Darryl W. Bullock. What joy, what rapture! Finalmente, someone who has done the research to prove that this wasn't some elaborate hoax.
4a) And in honor of this find, I am compelled to share with you my favorite of her recordings:
4b) When the time comes, I am really going to have to arrange to have this recording played at my funeral. And everyone will sigh and say "Of course he did!" As long as they don't smack their heads and ask "Why are we here?"
5) I brought some little snackies over to Hochmina-sur-Mer, and he and I sat around going over the state of the world and other things.
6) My host, who'd been out all afternoon, and I decided on different plans for the evening. Hochmina and I sallied forth to the old Tippy-Toppy, where we got a corner table. And the restaurant did get crowded. My chicken Milanese with pasta was just what I wanted, but the Portuguese kale soup could have been hotter.
7) Tarot readings and more British baking on the telly later, as well as packing for the inevitable departure.
8) Labor Day dawned bright and beautiful - the kind of weather you long for, and that we really should have had on Sunday, too. Breakfast, a bubbly soak in the hot tub, and all the chores of closing a vacation house: laundry, dishwashing, bedmaking, restocking bathrooms, etc.
9) My host generously drove me to the pier - I was really expecting to walk, and happy to do so - and it turned out I was so early for the 11 AM boat that the line for the 10:30 AM boat was only just forming. (Yes, I know you are not surprised by this!) To avoid confusion, I turned my steps back to town and to the super-secret Donut Experiment, which is behind the restrooms. Boy oh boy, do they have great doughnuts!
10) In the proper line for the ferry, I ended up next to a long-forgotten acquaintance, and not too far from that nice man I met on the ferry on Thursday evening. And of course I was very pleased to see two friends disembarking for a day trip. They picked the right day for it! I quoted Ruth Draper's "Of Doctors and Diets:" "I love this place, always so full of friends!"
11) I was fortunate to score a banquette on the first deck, and a handsome man with wide-spaced light eyes saw me and asked "Is anyone sitting there?" "You are!" I said. You can imagine my feelings when he moved enough to reveal the two-year-old boy in the stroller behind him . . .
11a) His just-as-handsome husband was not too far behind him, and I must say they seem to make good parents.
12) Later at home, I discovered film footage of FFJ!
13) I've now been home for several hours, settling back into my home, enjoying the breeze on the back porch, dining at Doyle's, and trying to prepare myself for two very active weeks at the office.