and the harbor flows with gin

I remember, quite vividly, the first time I found out about this place.



We were staying in a shitty little house that I rented one town south of here.
It was cheap, it was dingy and it was 'eclectic.'
When a realtor tells you that something is 'eclectic' stay far far away.
They don't just mean Indian bedspreads and African wall hangings, which have no place in New
England, they mean falling apart and scary.

Anyway, it was cheap.
But we found ourselves spending as much time as possible out of the nasty little place and so we explored neighboring towns and beaches.
One evening we wandered into Wellfleet.
We had some dinner at a real old-world style sea coast restaurant and were happy for waitresses (most places don't have table service) and cocktails.

After dinner we took the kids to the playground, across the street from the harbor.
The sun was setting as the kids played and we watched the skaters at the adjoining park.
All around us were small children with golden hair and oversized sweatshirts and adorable shoes.
They had remarkable names like Josiah and Emma.

There was a cool breeze and the sky was pink and lavender.

Sailboats bobbed gently just off shore.

Fabulous looking couples were standing around in summer shifts and polo shirts - and they were smiling and laughing and talking about putting the kids to bed and getting together for cocktails.

It was almost impossibly gorgeous.
And I thought:
Goddamnit this is almost impossibly gorgeous.
We are going to HAVE TO GET A PLACE IN WELLFLEET.
And so we did.
And so we have every year since.

Lucky us.





Today, it's back to Tuvalu for Youngest and me.
It's been enchanting being away with him...and bringing you.