One gardener's observations, discoveries and random thoughts whilst simultaneously worshipping and dallying in a Cape Cod garden. "A garden," said Ralph Waldo Emerson, "is like those pernicious machineries which catch a man's coatskirt or his hand, and draw in his arm, his leg and his whole body to irresistable destruction."

Sunday Nor’easter


Snow, sleet, rain. Repeat.

Sometime overnight, a new storm arrived for us. One of those classic nor’easters, bringing a few inches of snow before settling into the above pattern for the rest of the day. It was simply gross outside and I knew there’d be no success in visiting the old driveway, already muddy from our earlier moving efforts.

I might’ve enjoyed making an early morning phone call or two to a few people to say “hey, we’re in” and pass out the new number…but we have also discovered pre-Revolutionary War era phone jacks at the new place, so we’ll have to have those replaced before there’s a home phone…or sadly internet access (since I opted away from the expense of broadband…).

And I’d also not really had the chance to spend much time inside at the new house, so I was glad to stay home and begin sorting through the masses of cartons, boxes and milk crates we’d piled in the big back room.

It might seem impractical to begin with unpacking the books, but at least I was able to get them up on the shelves and their boxes out of the way. By the end of the afternoon, I’d managed to clear out some space…at least enough to allow for aisles passing through the remaining boxes, which I also sorted thematically by contents.

There was no sign so far of the silverware, but fortunately we’d thought to grab a few packets of plastic cutlery from the restaurant to facilitate dinner that night.

We did, however, discover a rabbit fur dog coat, which had been purchased for Emily a few years ago, but never really served her as anything more than a shawl. Anyway, she doesn’t care for clothes much. So we tried it out on Badum, who was nestled in the bean bag chair. He seemed cool with it for a little while, walking slowly around the house humming “If I Were King Of the Forest”…but eventually he managed to squeeze out of it.

After all, he’s been the busiest of us, being the only one in our household who can visit all of the rooms’ furthest corners. Even he can’t find the box with the silverware.

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