There is really not much going on

Peach Crisp with Half and Half
(Connecticut peaches dish #1)

The difficulty with being in a place where there is really not much going on is that there really is not much going on. I happen to love this about the cove, and I think ZandO do too really, but the first day was a bit rough.

O wants so much to do the things he wants to do - fishing and Risk, mostly,  and kayaking - that he has a very hard time letting anyone else do what they want. Z, the socialest of sociable animals, is anxious for her summer friends to arrive on the weekend, and keyed up about the possibility of seeing her a best friend from home as she passes up the coast (this complicated by the fact that we get no cell phone reception here -- again, not something I mind on my on own). All this makes her less than gracious, and she also gets fed up with being the default playmate for her brother, in predictable and irritating ways. And David has things he wants to do too, and wishes the kids would run off and entertain themselves more. I am confident we will all find our rhythms after a day or two.

Good things happened today too. O caught an 8-inch mackerel off the dock! Z and I went out to write and draw on "my rock," but the tide was so high (supermoon high) that we couldn't get to it without a fairly serious wading expedition. So we perched on a smaller rock on shore for a good 40 minutes, each quietly doing our work and exclaiming occasionally when the waves leapt too high. Walks were taken. People went swimming.

Reading: I am consternated by my father in law, who picked up the Fuller book I am reading and spent the day getting beyond where it has taken me more than a week to read to.

In lieu of the read-out-loud books left at home (Haroun and Matilda, depending on the parent in question), we started Dogsbody by Diana Wynne Jones, gotten at the library sale on Monday.

Writing: Worked on my script out on the rock with Z, not on my book, working in a recycled book notebook I use when I need to carry something smallish (boards are the cover of an old children's dictionary, with the color illustrated dictionary pages interspersed among the blank pages). I think I like where the script is going. It is very short. I don't need it to go far.

But I do need to finish a draft of the book in the next two weeks. Zut alors! Can it be done?

My friend Charlie posted something recently about how his most productive time as a writer was when he had fewer friends, travelled less, and taught less.

Cousins-in-law, mostly only
ever encountered in Maine.

Dinner: Tertia made a stir fried veg and noodle dish. Cousins Ken and Connie brought some of their own house wine and a tray of yummy tidbits. We threw together a salad when I had to send Connie back to her house to get butter for the peach crisp.

Soundtrack: The classical station from Portland plays in the kitchen of the cabin most of the day.

Random thing: Z and I have been admiring all of the orb spider webs in the woods. It stayed misty so long that they seemed jewel encrusted most of the day.