Common Talk
Sally and Jay Pedley were out and about the Common this week. They had lunch, visited her mother (hello, Mrs. Nadon), conducted errands. When asked what they were doing, Jay responded, "We're just riding around." The Common is a great place to do that.
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Elizabeth Lane--home for the summer--was visiting in one of the stores where, among other topics, she praised her knee replacement. It is now one year old. "I'd advise anyone to do it if they need it," Miss Lane said. "It's just wonderful." She credits "serious rehabilitation" and daily exercises for the success.
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One of the banks was giving away cupcakes and biscotti. David Blythe was one patron who enjoyed the treat. "Just to be polite, I'll have one," Mr. Blythe said, smacking his lips.
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STAR program youngsters cleaned up the alley and area behind their space on the Common. Good work--it looks much better without the dead bike tire and other trash.
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Some folks were concerned that I alerted thieves by announcing a plan to be away a few days; however, crooks were confounded because I published the wrong week. Driving over Bourne Bridge onto the Cape, Kirsten asked me to take photos with her phone. "Click this. Shoot over there! And down there!" I did as directed, all the while pointing the camera the wrong way, which resulted in gross shots of my teeth, nose, right ear.
The first night of our trip, we had a fine two-bedroom suite with Jacuzzi. From the room, we could view the Atlantic Ocean by holding onto the doorjamb, leaning out, cranking the neck. Benjamin raced into the water, waist deep, while Kirsten and I froze our feet in it screeching all the while.
Next day, we missed the ferry after we drove past the parking lot and had to backtrack five miles. When we finally boarded, it was onto a clean, new, nicely equipped vessel. Avoid ferry food. It is awful.
Martha's Vineyard is a gem of colorful, natural beauty. Everything is in bloom. There are actual fields full of daffodils. The magnolias were gorgeous. The forsythia was vibrant. The local gardening columnist advised against clipping forsythia into balls, declaring forsythia "is NOT a privet hedge"; it likes to flounce. On the south shore, the Army Corp of Engineers is cleaning up "No Man's Land" an area of beach used for bombing practice circa WWII.
We spent a night at Cynthia Rigg's B&B with its large, square, wallpapered rooms with books in every nook and cranny, and decorated with history and art. She is a 13th generation Islander. She earned a Master's from Vermont College and then wrote eight mysteries in as many years, set on the Vineyard. The Brown Public Library has her first book, Deadly Nightshade.
We left the B&B at 7:30 a.m. and arrived home at 4:30 pm. As my sister-in-law noted, "It's a hassle to get to the Vineyard."
Trespassers take notice: We plan to stay home from here on out. How about you? Don't be shy--here's the address: commontalk@ trans-video.net.











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