My trip to Coral Bay was unplanned, a spur of the moment thing. I didn't even manage to get back here for my prescription mask, Swiss army knife, or various clothing. I simply felt that I couldn't wait any longer to see Dorado and begin the adventure, so bought tickets and swooped on down for a week. But now it is time to button up and batten down, deal with the things I left undone up here....and enjoy Thanksgiving with family....before heading down south again.
We dropped down from the dark skies over Boston on Sunday evening, the A320 bucking and rolling under the strong winter gusts, breathing deeply and relaxing myself, trying to ignore the roughest flight ever....and near the ground with no room to recover. Once down, I pulled out my long pants from the luggage and pulled them over my shorts, then walked out into the 20degF wind and darkness, snagged the 66 bus to the T, and made my way to my cousin Jen's where warm hugs and critters greeted me.
Sherman, the dog, stayed with with her beloved Jen and Mick all night, but the cats tried to get into my room, eager to eat unguarded plants and nestle upon my bed, but the door held and I slept pretty darned well until 5ish, then rose and got to work on the laptop, then ate delicious steel-cut oats (with almonds, raisins, cumin, and cinnamon) with Jen and took the T to the bus station.
Various buses took me to Chatham and I walked the final cold mile, taking a shortcut down Mill Pond road and along the shore, occasionally stepping in ice and slush that had washed ashore, then into the chilly house where I turned on heat, water, and wtr heater and made myself at home.
The next day (yesterday) I found the tide low, so grabbed the bucket and filled it with oysters before the predicted storm.
And tonight I opened those 4 qts of oysters and cooked them in some steak drippings, threw in some onions, peas, and potatoes, and....and am waiting for it to be done, hardly able to stand the savory scents coming from the simmering pan beside me.