I am insanely busy, horrific for someone with the soul and spirit of a sloth. Between now and Wednesday, my only free day is Sunday, the Biblical day of rest and, now, coincidentally, my day of rest. Tonight is the first play of the season. Tomorrow is a concert at Chatham Airport. Sunday is coffee and the newspapers and my weekly call to my sister in Colorado. I’ll stop chronicling my week here so as not to bore you with the rest of the events on my yellow, weathered dance card.

The cape is hazy from the smoke. The sky is grey. Scattered showers are predicted. The temperature will be in the mid 60’s. It is an ugly day, but it is a good day. The trash is gone and my laundry is done, good news which comes with a sigh of contentment.

During the harmattan in Ghana, the air is filled with dust and sand from the Sahara. It blocks the sun and covers every surface. My lips and the heels of my feet cracked from the dryness. The only relief was at night when the air cooled. I’d open my windows despite the sand. Feeling cool was rare in Ghana.

This morning I started my day with a wonderful cup of coffee and a scone. I bought the scones at the farmer’s market yesterday. I buy the scones right away as the lady always sells out. Last night I had a blueberry scone as part of my supper. This morning it was coconut with a bit of butter.

My garden is more alive with color every day. I always take a walk around in the mornings when I get my papers. The day lilies on the borders of the grass have buds, but they won’t bloom for a while. I like to check their progress. Small purple flowers have spread to both sides of the garden. My hyacinths are tall but have no buds yet. They are the crowing glory of my garden.

Some of the lights along the fence and gate have died so I have to turn on the back light for the dogs to go into the yard though I suspect they don’t really care, but it makes me feel better.

Right now both dogs are having their morning naps. Henry sleeps on one corner of the couch. Nala sleeps behind me leaning against my back. She keeps me warm.

The sun comes and goes. Partly cloudy is a misnomer. It is warm, mid 60s. Everything is quiet, calm. We have definitely left winter behind. My sweatshirts have been retired, at least during the daytime. Long sleeves are in.

Today I have a concert at the Farmer’s Market in Harwich. I love going there. We sit in the shade of trees and play. The market is small but one table always has a line. The woman sells the best scones. I’ll be in that line!

When I was a kid, we had donuts on Sunday mornings. My father was an usher at an early mass so he’d go to Dunkin’ Donuts after mass. He only ate plain donuts so his selections were limited. He’d pick the more common donuts like jelly and powered. He went heavy on the jelly. He never bought my favorite, butternut. It was probably too exotic for him. Instead, I’d eat a lemon or a glazed if he had bought them. My father always ate his plain donut with butter slathered on the top.

My mother never learned to swim. I remember she once went to the Y for lessons but didn’t finish. I only remember her dipping her feet in the water. My father was a great swimmer. He used to body surf in the waves. He taught us to swim, my brother and me.

One of my favorite family vacations was when we went to Islesboro, Maine. I remember the ferry ride to the island, and the house my father rented. It was down a dirt road and was steps from the water. The house was isolated. We had a dock and a row boat to use. My mother used to pack a lunch, and my father would row us to a small beach within sight of the dock. We, my brother and I, would jump off the boat when we got close to the beach. The water was freezing. Duke, our dog, was with us. On one trip to the beach, our dog Duke was out and saw us in the boat. He followed along the shore. My father was afraid Duke would jump into the cold water and not be able to swim so he went back and got Duke. I remember we shopped in the small town. We were each given a little money. I chose those white and black Scottie dog magnets. I thought they were neat when they repelled each other. The best thing on that vacation was the sort of scavenger hunt all around the yard and road. My parents had planted clues. We’d read them then figure out the next step. I remember Hershey Bars were the prizes. They were in a fallen tree trunk. The worse thing on that vacation was I got a bee sting. I still remember I was in a field. I also still remember how much it hurt.