From the monthly archives:

July 2009

Postcards From The Edge

July 31, 2009

On our last day on The Cape, I finally got some time to shoot in Provincetown, at the very eastern edge of the peninsula. As my sister says, you can’t miss P-Town–if you keep going, you’ll fall into the ocean.
Provincetown has a rep as the San Francisco of the East, with a very large gay [...]

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Rescheduled

July 28, 2009

So Mr. C got here — and then threw his back out.
We managed to get some fun in at the ocean-side beach and a day of shopping, but he was totally out of commission yesterday. I started the frantic, lemminglike-tasks of packing again for the three-day journey back to Mybana, but called the whole thing [...]

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Girl

July 27, 2009
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Boy

July 26, 2009
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Blackout

July 25, 2009

My hard drive died on Wednesday, which was also my 38th birthday.
Mr. C arrived the day before, and never was there a sight more beautiful than his khaki-clad legs climbing down the stairs of a Cessna prop plane. The fog off Provincetown was a thick gray blanket over the ocean, and as we drove in [...]

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Hills And Valleys

July 19, 2009

I’m not used to the hills.
The car swoops along the road, the wheel sliding beneath my fingers as we rise and fall, rise and fall. A wall of tall green pine trees surrounds us on either side, sun winking at us from behind the regal, weathered limbs.
My daughter laughs from the backseat: Weeee! It’s like [...]

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Damning With Faint Praise

July 17, 2009

Uncle: So is my sister a good mother to you?
The Poo: Well, she’s not a bad mother.

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Captain’s Log: Day Four

July 15, 2009

I didn’t hear the crack or the boom when the lightning hit the slender pine standing just a few feet from my bedroom window.
I did hear the scream of the fire alarm, and the loud man’s voice commanding me to get out: FIRE! ALERT! FIRE! ALERT!
I stumbled to the bunk room, where the children sleep. [...]

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Captain’s Log: Day One

July 11, 2009

The Babyman is as good a traveler as anyone else in my family.
Which is to say, HE TOTALLY SUCKS AT IT.
This morning at 8:37 we left Rochester for our perch here on an 80-foot sand dune near the edge of the eastern United States. The Babyman commenced crying at 8:39 and continued uninterrupted for NEARLY [...]

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Month Eleven

July 7, 2009

Being here, at my mother’s house, reminds me of making bottles late at night, fumbling my way in an unfamiliar kitchen.
The Babyman has been here only twice before: In October we spent three weeks here, before his baptism, and again at Christmas, for just three harried days. The last time we were here, he was [...]

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