Summer's last hurrah

Labor Day - the unofficial end of summer. We decided to go out with a bang, and packed up the family car and made our way down to Falmouth early Friday morning. We were welcomed into the home of our best friend's dad with open arms. HIs accomodations were superb as he basically let us have the run of the hiz-ouse all weekend, a generous thing to start, and even more so when you are bringing along a two-year-old.

The weekend was filled with good eats and spirits, and even better company (including that of Golden Retriever Bailey, who had no shortage of slobbery kisses for all us guests). Upon arrival, we immediately set off for the British Beer Company for some lunch. Though our waitress was nearly deaf and messed up our orders, she was too grandmotherly to snub, so we left her the 20 percent tip and made for the beach across the street complete with a great view of Nantucket Sound.

Early mornings were spent lounging as the cool breeze blew through the trees and rustled the leaves that are too soon going to change and fall. The beach was just a short walk to the end of the street and the gusty wind did not deter us from relaxing, reading and exploring the shoreline where hermit crabs, fish and the odd shrimp-like creature crawled and darted around our feet.












On Saturday, DG and I played tennis, albeit a sub-par game and in the evening we all went to The Flying Bridge and enjoyed a mediocre meal (Native baked scrod sprinkled with Ritz cracker crumbs) but a spectacular view and walk along the boardwalk.












I, unfortunately, missed the no hitter thrown by Red Sox rookie Clay Buchholz on Saturday night, as I was upstairs for three hours trying to get an ornary toddler to fall asleep, which he never really did. But all other house guests assured me that it was very exciting.

Sunday morning we went to Moonakis Cafe for breakfast. Everyone else on the Cape seemed to have the same idea, as there were dozens of people milling around outside when we rolled up hungry and in need of caffeine. But once ushered inside, the food proved to be worth the wait. I stuck with my old standby of a cheese omelet, but ordered the little man some legendary blueberry pancakes so I could sneak a taste. Dee-Lish-Us.

The weekend was a great summer send off, and no traffic to or fro to boot.

Early Sunday afternoon, as we packed up our things, it was already sinking in. Back to life. Back to reality. No more beach at the end of the street. No more eating and drinking like there was no tomorrow. Work awaits. Deadlines loom before me. The chimney man is coming at the crack of dawn Tuesday morning. But then I remember the Cape and the breeze blowing through the trees.

And as we cross the Bourne, then head up 495, we notice that trees are already starting to change. Auburn reds pop through rows of green. Then there is talk of apple picking and halloween. A twinge of excitement runs through me as I entertain thoughts of Christmas. And I know that while the end of summer means the end of a lot of things, it also signifies the beginning of lots of others. And I am glad for it.