I apologize for not keeping up with my stories from the Cape, as I was rudely interrupted by a business trip to Houston and Dallas. I was able to get some pictures from my travels there, so be sure to keep your eyes open for those weeks of photos some time in November. When we last left our heroes, one of them was wearing a dead horseshoe crab as a helmet.
The picture above is the cottage we stayed, taken from the backyard. One item I forgot to mention was the presence of numerous signs which caused dread and trepidation to all who read them:
No, not the one above. This one:
We already had a bad experience with aged, Cape Cod cottage plumbing during our last vacation, and much like Chief Brody in Jaws 2, we didn't intend to go through that hell again.
We started the day at nearby Skaket Beach, eagerly anticipating the arrival of my sister. She was in the middle of completing her work for her Master's degree and couldn't take a lot of time for vacation, but she wanted to see us and figured the weekend would be the best time. She planned to stay overnight until Monday and then head back home to Hartford.
Skaket Beach is your basic bayside beach. Although having regular tides, there isn't the kind of waves you would see on the Atlantic side. In fact, they're more like ripples than waves. The water is warmer and the sand is pretty smooth once you get past the crushed shells and rocks at the breakwater. Our time was spent playing with a football and squirt guns during high tide and hunting hermit crabs and snails at low tide. Once word got around that my sister arrived, we packed up our things and headed home.
Back at the cottage, we created a family ping pong competition, starting with pool play. The players were the Wifey, G-Bug, my sister & brother, and me. Everyone had to play each other once to determine seeding for the tournament. It quickly became obvious that the Wifey and my brother were the two odds-on favorites to win the tournament. I held my own against both, going deep into games, past 21 points, eventually to lose by two. We never got to tournament play to determine the true winner.
That night was deemed by the Wifey as our night to prepare the family dinner. In truth, my contribution was minimal, although I did cut the garlic bread (not as easy as it sounds) and did the heavy lifting of getting the massive salmon off the grill and onto the table. There was a big communal salad and other sides as well. The Wifey got huge compliments for putting the dinner together, but was something I had gotten used to. My wife is a master at putting together a delicious salad. If you haven't had one, you're missing out! I completed my duties by clearing the table and rinsing the dishes.
After dinner, my sister suggested we change the format of pong to include beer. We had participation from unlikely sources, including my mom and my oldest nephew. His and G-Bug's cups were filled with soda, but caffeine is like alcohol to youngsters, so the result was the same. In a surprising twist, my mom beat my sister at beer pong. I found I didn't have patience for the game, as it took too long to score any points, and take a drink. I preferred to watch the last game of the series between the Red Sox and Yankees, an 11-inning affair won by a Napoli walk-off home run.
The next morning was a throwback to our childhood. I woke up in the late morning to find my brother and sister playing cribbage, a game our father taught us as kids. Once they finished their game, I was dealt into the next two. It was a barn burner for a while until I started to suck wind with a constant series of 4 point hands and cribs. My brother and sister would bang out a dozen points or more in some hands, leaving me hoping for the skunk line. My sister was more successful at playing cribbage than pong (ping or beer), squeaking out a victory in both games, by 1 point, then by 3 over my brother. I was an "also ran," getting skunked in the second game.
