Goodnight, Irene.....

Oh Irene, how could you decide, with your big old asshole eye, to disrupt our travel and wedding plans? How, I ask?!

OK, OK, I’ve been gone awhile. A few days. Before Irene the Hurricane, I know, I know! It’s a tough life on the road, what with moving every few days, unexpected hurricanes, weddings to attend during a hurricane. AND, ladies and gentlemen, the blog itself is easy-peasy to write – I literally flow like a river with things to say, big surprise, huh? However, the picture taking on my phone, pad and camera make for downloading the pics, naming the pics, then uploading the pics to the blog a pain in the ass. The pics are so important to the story, giving my words light for their shadows and shade for their light. It just takes a long time for the process, and I want it done right.

It seems too, when I’m hunkering down, arms akimbo (yes, Joey, I do!), gettin’ the feel of the words spread out on the screen in their proper places…..is when Tony asks me a question, or, more likely, reads part of the paper to me; or Roku wants to lie on my lap. And, they come first, my friends.

So, let's see, we left off after our fab farm feast in Burlington, VT. We headed straight for Stowe, VT, on the recommendation of both my long time work pal, Pat Johnson-Perez, and Spencer. Stowe not only has the honor of having the von Trapp family as residents (say what?!), but theBenandJerry’sfactoryistheretoo. I said it fast, I bet you couldn’t understand it. BEN AND JERRY’S FACTORY IN STOWE, VT! But we didn’t stop because we can’t turn around in so many parking lots. OK, so we continued to Stowe proper and were mildly impressed. It is cute, but I think really cute when the leaves turn or there’s snow. Mara later confirmed these two insights as being correct.

By then you’re about halfway through Vermont – skinny state! Beautiful drive in the country, mostly. One cool thing about VT – no billboards or big signs on the road. On to New Hampshire! Another skinny dude. We stayed at a club place in Ossipee. As usual, took too damn long to get there and it vastly oversold the amenities, but…Dick the maintenance guy was very friendly and helpful. It was a one-nighter so we were fine with it. New Hampshire is beautiful too, very new-englandy. ‘Cause it’s in New England! And so are we! Whooo hoooo! And by NH, the “accents” are coming on strong. “Cah” and “pahk” are the most identifiable. As we were leaving the Beaver Hollow Campground in Ossipee, I forgot to put the step in and we jimmy-jammed it on a big old rock, making it unusable. TC gets out his trusty comealong and yanks it into a semblance of its former self, but boy was it hurting. I am secretly please – no I didn’t do it on purpose! –because it’s needed a motor for a long, long time. Then it rolls in and out as the door opens so that you can’t leave it out. Yay! We Google am RV repair place near the Cape and plan on getting a step, among other repairs, while there. Perfect.

Leaving Beaver Hollow opened up another day from hell. If I had known, I would have done the Beaver another day. Didn’t expect it, didn’t want it, got it anyway. We used Gertie (GPS) to make it a more fluid day, minus some of the more challenging backroads we faced the day before. Oh, there are no newly paved roads in either VT or NH. Hell on RV, car and tow dolly. Our plan was to be in Wompatuck State Park that night, the 24th, and then it would be a quick trip to Kamper’s Haven in Dennisport on Cape Cod the 25th. We would then have two days to hang with my oldest sister Maureen, flying in from Denver with my niece Kendra, her husband Aaron and 3 year old cutey-patootey daughter Cierra; her son Phillip, the one getting married, and his bride Sharolta; Mara and Spencer; and the three Sandoval kids’ Aunt Kathy, and their cousins, Maria and Julio. I have been looking forward to this for about a year, and can hardly wait.

So, we are toodling along in NH, heading for Mass, when we get a call from Kamper’s Haven, saying that they’re canceling our reservations as they are being mandatorily evacuated due to Hurricane Irene. Huh?! What hurricane? OK, no place to stay, yuck, get the books and atlas out, yeah, there’s a State Park just south of Boston. Called for res, no, they don’t take them outside a 24 hour notice. On we go. We stopped at the NH/Mass state line at the info center and figured out that we should take the beach route. We’d still be in Boston at an ungodly time – around 4:00 PM – but that’s alright. It was a heavenly drive, beautiful roads, gorgeous and quaint and OLD towns/villages/townships. It went on and on. And on. I flipped out, completely shutting down, couldn’t speak anymore. Tony happily driving through Salem – THE Salem – of witchcraft and pious religious a-holes! THE SALEM!!! I think what happened is that my WWU history degree circa 1988 kicked into my hard drive, and I couldn’t take it anymore - going through, always through a town; watching the oldest cemetaries in the country fly by with nary a picture from any of my three apparatuses ; time ticking away, must get to campground!, never, ever stopping.

Tony, on the other hand, is so childishly deeeeeelighted with our trip that dark day, so moved by Ipswich and Lynn and Salem, that he stops listening to my navigational course. Well, let’s face it, he just stops listening to ME because he’s so tickled pink with himself and what’s going on around him. I finally bitch that I asked him to stop 15 minutes ago and he’s passed up every long spot on the street that would have accommodated us; that he can figure out how to get where we’re going. He says, “Uh, you’re burned out? I did forget to stop.” I grabbed a teeny-tiny Coke Zero, laid on the couch with my eyes closed, let him drive. Finished with my caffeine, I returned to my seat, but could not find my voice. Shocking to some of you, I know. Others are wishing it had happened when I was with them. I find it debilitating and humiliating, but it is what it is. I tried to just stay out of the way without speaking venom. I couldn’t even enjoy the “Big Dig” in Boston, which wasn’t a tunnel the last time we were there! We slowly rolled through Boston, made our way 35 miles south, to Wompatuck State Park.

Got through the rest of the night with difficulty, but the next day was grand again. This park is the bomb! I’ve camped a lot, and this is probably the nicest park I’ve stayed at. Huge spaces, lots of trees, tons of trails, a natural spring, and about ten minutes from Hingham. Love it. So, we sign up for two nights, eventually three, would have stayed four…getting ahead of myself. We’re signing up for the third night, and the camp guy says, “Well, we may close tomorrow due to the hurricane.” What?! He didn’t really think so, never have before, but they did. Came by the next morn and informed us we’d have to move along the next day by noon. Huh…where do we go? We went to Hingham and looked around, then to Weymouth (Way’muth). Found a pizza place that said we could hunker down there. As we’re eating pizza Tony says, “We should look for a Masonic Lodge.” Bingo! I find one in Hingham that we had gone by earlier, get their website up and Tony reluctantly asks for help. They, of course, are delighted. I want to know if this is when the secret shit begins.....handshakes, butt rubs, goat kissing. He says it could include the first one!

Old Colony Lodge’s Secretary, Bob Olssen, hooked us up with Senior Steward Steve Tower at the Lodge the next morning after eight. Extremely helpful and cooperative, even gave us power, and a key, should we need to take shelter inside their sturdy brick building. Very cool, this Masonry. The Lodge itself has been in existence since 1829. They were in the process of getting a new elevator in, and a lot of carpeting and inside/outside painting done. Grand Poopaw shows up on his rounds in October and they were hustling. The Grand Master wears a tri-corner hat! I like it!

So, we’re snuggled in, no ac but it had cooled by then due to the hurricane weather looming. We took off for our 5:39 Cape Cod wedding at 3 on Saturday, made it there around 4:45. No traffic issues, although there were a lot of people leaving the Cape. It was a cool drive, nothing like I thought. You can’t see any water on either side, just trees. And there seems to be quite a few big towns, which I didn’t expect. Never saw a beach, but lots of lobster rolls for sale. God, I love a good lawbstuh roll!!!
Made it with a shuttle to the wedding house – an classic cape in the woods. Lovely place, beautiful set up. My sister and family are with us, and I’m happy, happy. Catered with organic food and it was yummy. When they cleared the floor for dancing, I told Phil we had to get a shuttle back to our car, as we still had an hour plus drive ahead, and of course had left Roku the kitty-boy alone for six hours. Gotta run! Zipped back in the stealth of night, listening to Joy Brown – I thought she was…gone – almost killed ourselves missing an exit. Back home to Blue and Roku.

Since Sunday was “the day” to get Irene up our collective ass, I planned an all day read/sleep/eat. I did as planned. Tony stayed up doing word puzzles, reading newspapers and talked to his Masonic friends and his beloved Nic and Pat (bro and sis in law) all day. My other sister Dawn had given me a gift certif for a Nook book, and I am devouring it! It’s called The Colony, by Anne Rivers Siddons. Delicious. So, we watched the rain come in torrents, the wind blow in huge gusts, and we slept and ate, ate and slept. Also delicious.The next morning, Monday the 29th, was sunny and glorious. We called Wompatuck to see if they were open (NEED…..SHOWER…..NOW!), no. We called Kamper’s Haven for same – no electricity. Hm, what to do?

So, we’re snuggled in, no ac but it had cooled by then due to the hurricane weather looming. We took off for our 5:39 Cape Cod wedding at 3 on Saturday, made it there around 4:45. No traffic issues, although there were a lot of people leaving the Cape. It was a cool drive, nothing like I thought. You can’t see any water on either side, just trees. And there seems to be quite a few big towns, which I didn’t expect. Never saw a beach, but lots of lobster rolls for sale. God, I love a good lawbstuh roll!!!
Made it with a shuttle to the wedding house – a classic cape in the woods. Lovely place, beautiful set up. My sister and family are with us, and I’m happy, happy. Catered with organic food and it was yummy. When they cleared the floor for dancing, I told Phil we had to get a shuttle back to our car, as we still had an hour plus drive ahead, and of course had left Roku the kitty-boy alone for six hours. Gotta run! Zipped back in the stealth of night, listening to Joy Brown – I thought she was…gone – almost killed ourselves missing an exit. Back home to Blue and Roku.

Since Sunday was “the day” to get Irene up our collective asses, I planned an all day read/sleep/eat fest for one Jackie Beddo. I did as planned. Tony stayed up doing word puzzles, reading newspapers and talked to his Masonic friends all day. My other sister Dawn had given me a gift certif for a Nook book, and I am devouring it! It’s called The Colony, by Anne Rivers Siddons. And it's taking place pretty much where we have been, and are. Delicious. So, we watched the rain come in torrents, the wind blow in huge gusts, and we slept and ate, ate and slept. Never took my stinky jammies off. Also delicious. The next morning, Monday the 29th, was sunny and glorious. We called Wompatuck to see if they were open (NEED…..SHOWER…..NOW!), no. We called Kamper’s Haven for same – no electricity. Hm, what to do?

Without a shower, I put cornstarch in my hair to sop up the greasy sheen, washed my entire body with my expensive-only-use-in-an-emergency-face-cleaning-cloths and felt brightly, freshly cleansed. And yes, Bernie, I used the face towel to clean my lady parts…..BUT I DID NOT HANG THE TOWEL BACK UP FOR TONY TO USE! Ha ha! Tony cleansed his rock hard body with the same cloths and agreed it was better than nuttin’. We hit the road and did a short trip to Gloucester, where we happened upon a little campground called Cape Ann Campsite. It is a tiered piece of heaven overlooking an Atlantic estuary. Lovely mom, dad, daughter who run it – 100 acres have been used for this purpose since 1949.

I begged off on a trip to Gloucester and environs, as I had to get this rig cleaned up. Grossed me out. The cat box needed its new forever box put in place, which I accomplished. I cleaned all mirrors, floors, walls; scoured our little kitchen; listened to the blues; made the bed; vacuumed. Exxxccellent. Now I can relax.

And then, we took a much needed shower. My hair was so cornstarchy it was heading for the Rastafarian look. I am now clean and happy. Getting ready to take Roku back to his little bug house, and read a mag.

We just finished some Trader Joe’s bool kogi grilled with asparagus, and rice. We didn’t grill the rice though. That wouldn’t work too well. As we were eating, we’re looking out our “dining room” window, grinning and enjoying ourselves. We also talked with a fellow traveler and she filled us in on the local eateries and spots to visit in this area. We are staying for five nights so we have plenty of time to see everything we want to see and experience. Tomorrow I’m taking a yoga class in Gloucester, then we’re going for a walkabout.

Caught up, at last.

8/30/11
Sat in Roku’s house with him for awhile, which was delightful. He’s slightly happier there. After we brought him inside we did a drive-by to Gloucester to find the yoga place and a laundry joint. What a bustling, happy, productive, prosperous town! Houses and houses jammed in together with streets that go willy-nilly. Gothic churches and a working waterfront, a boardwalk that’s busy. Ended up at Ro’s Scoop Ice Cream Shop, talking with the two high school senior girls. I asked them where a person from Seattle would get lobster. One replied, “Well, my dad lobstuhs.” They claim that all the boats sell them to anyone. We want a cooked one in order to make something delish. Tomorrow we search!