Putting the island to bed

              Hard to believe it was only yesterday morning that we left for the island. Sutton worked its magic, suspending time in the ethereal light of two brilliantly illuminated November days. It didn’t hurt that our amazing island neighbors exercised their characteristic hospitality. We had no power after the windstorm, but they have Queenie, a massive cast-iron cookstove that heats water, heats the kitchen, cooks everything anyone needs.
       Candlelight dinner, raclette, puttanesca, botanical gins by a roaring fireplace, and unmatched raconteurs to fill the evening. We hardly missed electricity.
              Water lines were drained in our house and two other family houses, mouse-proofing liberally applied, fridges cleared out, porch furniture stuffed into living rooms. We still had time for a leisurely breakfast prepared on Queenie, and a sweet, afternoon half hour in rocking chairs on the sunny end of the porch, accompanied by cheese and crackers and beer.
            This evening’s early darkness held a particular enveloping embrace, an island season hugging us goodbye.
 
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 68 : 161 words, TOTAL = 11,234; 48,766 remaining