Yet another long missive from the Cape. At some point I may stop waxing euphoric about nature, but not quite yet. For those of you less enamored with the animal world than I am, feel free to skip to the menu many paragraphs below!
I got a text from a friend a few days ago, asking if I were still “marveling at the birds and trees”. While this felt a bit snarky, the short answer is “yes, yes I am.” That being said, if last week’s prose described a Disney version of living in a semi-rural area, this week has felt as though I changed the channel and an Animal Kingdom documentary called something like “Fang and Claw” popped up instead of Cinderella and her adorable talking rodents. We are definitely seeing another side of nature at which to marvel.
To begin with, I got bitten by a spider on two consecutive nights. The first bite was painful and itched like mad but was inconsequential, the second triggered an episode of an auto-immune condition from which I suffer, one of the side effects of this being arthritis in all my joints, so I have been creeping around the place like the crotchety little old lady I shall be one day and had a couple of days where I kept dropping forks and garden implements because the arthritis affected my grip. Fun! And fun for L. too because I am snarly when cranky.
The second incident occurred late one night, when my TV watching was interrupted by an awful musky fecal smell. I have been bemoaning the seeming disappearance of most skunks from the Cape, not because I love them and their distinctive funk, but for ecological reasons so, for a second, I was glad at their return. But this was not actually a smell I recognized. Determined to track it down, I came across one of the cats sitting as close to the screen in one of the bedroom windows as he could, very still, every muscle clenched tightly. I peered out into the pitch dark and could see nothing. So, I switched on the outdoor light and, for reasons that I still don’t quite understand, knelt down to comfort the cat and then, still on my knees, turned to look out the low sash window to see if I could locate what was lurking in the garden. Instead, I came face to face with the largest raccoon I have every seen. You know the oft-used statement “I scared it as much as it scared me?” Well, in this case, this proved patently untrue. I fell backwards onto my rear, the cat started one of those low pitched lengthy growls that hurts ones ears, and the raccoon sat where it was and continued picking sunflower seeds from one of the bird feeders that it had managed to unhook from a tree with its freaky little prehensile paws and was now holding in its equivalent of a lap.
While I admired its dexterity and fine motor skills, especially since I have a hard time unhooking the feeder on a good day, I none the less hissed “tsk tsk” at it loudly, which scared the cat further and left the raccoon completely nonplussed. Eventually, it moved further down the garden and then stood on its hind legs and just stared at us. I am not sure how long this standoff would have lasted except that the sprinkler, the one that has been badly set on the timer to go off at 1:20 in the morning instead of 7 am, suddenly sprang into action. The raccoon took the water jet full on and shot backwards into the underbrush. He has not returned since, and I have taken the added precaution of bringing the bird feeders in at night.
My neighborhood has a dedicated website and it is extremely useful when looking for contractors, plumbers and the like, and a font of useful information about crime, wildlife, activities, etc. This summer’s version is full of post after post about the increase in the coyote population, including several sightings by close neighbors. I have yet to see one, or hear them howl at night (though I did hear a fisher cat scream a few nights ago which was unsettling), but – being of a neurotic bend – it has made the customary meditative 5 am coffee on the front steps and the calm evening aperitif hour under the gazebo in the back garden feel a bit less relaxing. And bunny remainders of their dinner viewed during our early evening walks do cast a pall, though obviously the rabbits feel more strongly about this than we do.
Last but not least, I was alerted to some activity in the garden yesterday afternoon by every bird suddenly screaming what was obviously “danger, danger!” When I went to investigate, I found that a hawk had landed in the garden and the entire bird population was on high alert. Eventually, and very bravely, the orioles banded together and managed to chase it off.
Other than that, we remain big fans of the pine trees and lush greenery that surround us. The famous Cape hydrangeas are halfway to full bloom everywhere from Bourne to P-town, which is a good thing too. Illustrated above are the blue ones next to our kitchen door –- just imagine how big and beautiful they will look when they are fully developed. The pink ones, on the other side of the house, are just getting going.
And now, on to food.
Sunday “Pantry Roulette”; fridge, freezer, and pantry item dinner]
Tomato Salad with Corn and Dill Dressing
Cheese Soufflé Frittata
Monday [Wildcard; a more complex or fiddly dish than usual to test my culinary skills]
Boston Lettuce Salad with Mustard Vinaigrette
Grilled Wagyu Beef Filet with Charred Scallion Butter
Roasted Asparagus
Tuesday [Pasta]
Arugula Salad
Wednesday [L.'s choice]
Bahn-Mi Sandwiches with Sauteed Foie Gras
Mixed Salad
Thursday [Fish]
Zucchini Carpaccio
Basil Cured Haddock en Papillote
Roasted Broccoli Crown with Preserved Meyer Lemon Dressing
Friday [L. is cooking over the summer]
Classic Bacon - Cheese Burgers
Oven Fries
Saturday ["Picnic"; something that is easy to assemble and easy to eat in front of a movie]
Cape Cod Shrimp Boil
Since you have made it through this lengthy post, here is a bonus photo for you. It is grainy as it was taken from inside my house, but who doesn't want to watch a squirrel hanging upside down by its tail and ankles from a light post in order to get at a bird seed sock?
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