I started this blog ten years ago, sitting on Chappaquiddick, on the very same sofa. Thankfully, the view has not changed. No pink condos or mega-mansions intrude. This view is my happy place.
The pandemic has spoiled summer. Massachusetts doesn't want anyone outside of New England to enter without a very recent (72 hours) negative Covid test. Otherwise, you must self quarantine for fourteen days. There is $500 a day fine. But, alas, the state is relying on the honor system. Given the furiously snarled traffic when we drove from the big ferry, I suspect many are not honorable.
Chappaquiddick is a small island off of Martha's Vineyard. Usually, it is free of the drama on the main island. But just this week there was 45-car lineup to take the eight minute, three-car ferry to Chappaquiddick. When my father bought our house in 1953, there were 75 houses on the five mile (tip to tip) island. Now there are upwards of 400.
Usually we have lots of company with friends that gather once a year. Much of my time is spent gathering recipes, making beds, buying liquor and grocery shopping. Usually, I hit the Stop and Shop every other day. I love the time spent with friends, but not the time required for organizing.
This year, no guests.
The morning after we arrived ( with our recent, negative Covid test results) , I felt odd and a little elated. No lists. I feel as if I am in suspended animation. I have not been to the beach, or to town or to Stop and Shop.
I sit on the porch where time passes quietly.