If I were a bell, I'd be ringing.

OK, I think I can finally take a break and begin writing about the vacation. The longer I wait, the more I forget, and that just can’t happen.

We stayed in Brewster, which is near the elbow of the Cape on the bay side. The house (owned by my brother-in-law and occupied by my mother-in-law) is intended as a getaway for the whole family and a place where we can all get together on occasion. Unfortunately, some of the family couldn’t join us, but we did have a nice weekend with my BIL, his wife, and their two kids. The house has deeded rights to a private beach a quarter mile away where it’s nice and flat and one can walk out quite a ways at low tide. At high tide, the water depth is only about 10 feet and nice and clear. The flats are also a clam bed, which means low tide stinks to high heaven. There are markets and restaurants and little shops within walking distance, so we did a lot of walking. People on Cape Cod are almost disgustingly healthy with all the walking and biking.

The Friday before my birthday, Tom and his brother surprised me very well. They had gone golfing and planned dinner. Mom got swordfish, per BIL, and Tom stopped for a Boston Cream Pie. My BIL had brought up a bottle of sparkling Riesling from an old office celebration that he had been saving for a special occasion. After dinner, they surprised me by bringing out the pie with candles and popping the cork!

My BIL told me he had asked Tom how old I was turning, since he thought I was in my 30s somewhere. Tom immediately answered, “29,” so my BIL knew I was turning at least 30. I got a good man, though—at least he tried!

The next day, we went to the ocean beach where Tom tried boogie boarding and CJ and I played in the sand. The water was cold and rough, so we didn’t go in. That night, Mom babysat CJ while Tom and I went out to dinner, alone, for the first time in over a year.

That’s right. Over a year. We have to find a babysitter.

I had clam chowder and split my Oscar Sirloin (sirloin with crab and béarnaise sauce) with Tom to sample his Salmon Steak with Hollandaise sauce. We had a bottle of Pinot Grigio with dinner and coffee after, and took a nice long walk through some back roads to get home.

On Monday (my birthday), Tom and I went to this harbor café that was cute and scenic, but the food sucked. My fish and chips were an oil slick, the fries weren’t fresh cut, and Tom’s fried oysters were too big and still cold in the middle. Plus the cole slaw was bland. At least we can say we went. That night, we walked to the Woodshed, this old bar a mile down the road where we listened to a band called the Slackers (three middle-aged white men with cool covers) and drank Sam Adams Summer Ale. I had four. The band played Land Down Under and one of the guys played flute and it rocked! We left during the second set while they were playing and I stumbled down the rock singing Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard, openly wondering just what it was that Mamma saw. Tom just kept replying, “Whatever it was, it was against the law!” and we giggled like kids, shushing ourselves as we got to the house. Mom had locked us out, accidentally, but woke from the living room sofa to let us in while Tom and I did the universal pee dance on the porch—after all, we did drink four beers apiece.

My MIL did a lot of babysitting—she insisted on it, since she doesn’t have much opportunity. CJ loved playing in the kitchen with her old-school copper measuring cups, old Tupperware, and wooden spoons, making up his own one-man band. Tom and I plinked around on the piano, and I picked out Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star while CJ joined me to sing it (oh wa oh wa oh wa oh, ah wa wa, ah wa wa). The kid picked up the notes and key immediately—this kid will be gifted at music, I say it now.

We took several walks to the beach and the organic market where I think the girl behind the counter kind of liked me. We walked to the bookstore where I picked up a book of Sudoku and got obsessive about it, finishing half the book and working my way up to blue belt. We let CJ play in the surf until his hands and feet were all pruney and he still howled like a banshee when it was time to leave and we picked him out of the water. We all got tans. I drove to Chatham one day and had the best mug of clam chowder I have ever had at this café called Anytime Café, eating the chowder while studying the funky physics mural on the wall.

Tom and I went to see Guys and Dolls at the Cape Playhouse in Dennis. I mentioned earlier that it’s in its 80th season, and the show was phenomenal! The sets were minimalist and designed in blue and white; painted flats wheeled in and out of the wings by the actors as the scene changed without dropping the curtains. The men’s dancing was exquisite, unbelievably liquid, which completely made the show. The sewer backdrop, flown down from above the lights, was rather Seussical in design, and the designer, in a nod to the era and Al Hirschfeld, incorporated the name, “Ally” everywhere—traffic light glass pattern, the bunching of a tablecloth at the Hot Box, the curtains’ billows at the Hot Box, in the grid of the trashcans and the crosshatching of shadows on the flats. I fell in love with the design instantly, especially since the stage was very small. Somehow, I missed this musical in my training so it was a real treat, and I finally understood why Susan would look at Andy Connerly so wistfully and regret having done Guys and Dolls before our freshman year.

I guess that was about it. Lots of fun, lots of family time, and beautiful weather even when it rained. Not you can see why I wish I were still there.