Cleaning up

Gardens and grime this week here on the Point.

Planting has begun on a small perenial garden that will wrap around two sides of the utility wing. Hosta, Seedum, Daisies, Hydrangea, and some mystery plants were put in place on Friday and Saturday past. A vegetable garden will be in place by this upcoming weekend in the bed outside the kitchen. A pathway of pavers was put in place across the backyard after a generous donation from my sister Lee. I like the idea that we are giving back here and making a mark.

We have also been cleaning up. A vacumn made the trip with me to the top of the tower and I am happy to announce the whole of the tower has been vacced and swept. I may have missed a few of the cob webs but it was a good faith effort. This morning the walkway got the same treatment.

This might sound crazy but I am having a blast with these chores. The Cottage has seemed like home nearly from the first but the Tower needed some attention before I could feel like I was truly its caretaker. You have to give a place some of your attention and time before you truly connect to it. There are still some windows to wash and maybe I will slosh around with some Murphy's Oil but I can look out at the Tower and know that I have gone on a first date now. We will be going steady for a while but I needed to buy the flowers and slick back my hair.

Colors

There are colors here. All sorts of colors.

This morning the line on the horizon reminded me of the hot coils of an old toaster. Last week the sun came out of the water like a giant honey dip donut, dripping melted sugar into the flattest, calmest blue - the blue of the perfect blue eye - I could ever remember.

The grays are grayer, the greens of a greater range of green than my imagination would have guessed. I was sitting at the table last weekend and on the harbor side there was a shimmer on the water like the reflection of a billion razor blades, while on the ocean side there were long breaking, turquoise and somehow red, waves wacking up against the shore and the big jetty.

There is a tint on the rocks at about 5:15 each night that makes you recall scenes from movies when the alien ship arrives and the light show is other worldly. At night there is the orange from the lights across the harbor - the clearer white light of the church steeple above a line of what could be candy Dots from the parking lots. There is black rain here - hitting the sand to darken and spill out into the cove so that the harbor become a piece of slate - the gulls look like lines of chalk against it.

The lighthouse itself is several colors of white as the light moves around it - think of a table cloth that has survived the childs' table at a holiday - the purest white to the murkiest white - it all depends on the clouds and the sun and the time of day.

I have barely scratched the surface of what we see each day and then there are all the sounds and smells to describe. Come on back soon for the follow up.

Mom

Since the last post from here on the Point my mom passed away.

She had struggled to get back to herself after a heart surgery last May and died during a hospital stay where the doctors were trying to come up with a reason for her prolonged weakness. We had a service for her yesterday and I hope that all those who were able to come left that service with a feel for her humor and how her example helped the family deal with her loss.

Friends and family joined us back in the Keeper's Cottage and what might be labeled an Old Fashioned Irish wake began. One tale led to another and another. There was a stretch where I thought I was the body, as my friends, Art, Dave, John and Mike, lit into my eccentricities and foibles. It was great!! This morning I made a note on the calendar we are using to track the weather and oil purchases and other miscellaneous events - April 4 - Funeral and Party - Go Figure.

My mom did get to visit here twice before her passing. She came the first time and managed to get upstairs with the help of my aunt Mona and her husband Richard. They knew she wanted to see the view. I couldn't believe she was able to do it, though I was not surprised she tried. We had very little furniture in place at that point but she got a feel for it and she got her peek at the view.

The second time she came she had a great deal less strength. She came with my Aunt Barbara and we had furniture in so they could settle in for a bit. We got talking about what might grow in the garden I have planned and how the painters had transformed the rooms from what she remembered years ago. Not a long visit but it will have to do.

She will of course be here in a million other ways as we go along. She was a regular on the beach out front for the past 10 years or so and no doubt I will hear her voice in my head when I need to be reminded of the virtues of patience with a pushy tourist. She was here yesterday in all the stories and in the reminders of her spirit and her fun loving manner. It was a party she would have loved.