Just back from Cape Cod. If I can ever figure out how to do it without becoming broke or alcoholic, I may retire there. Off-season of course, just like we do now. Someone (this time, the sweet husband-&-wife retirees whose birdhouses we stopped to photograph while biking Truro’s back roads) always asks if we’re in town for Women’s Week. The answer’s always no. I hope all the girls have a rippin’ time in P-town and send me the pictures, but I’m old enough to have seen just about all these performers already and I never did too well at the big Girl Events anyway; someday, children, you’ll hear about my disastrous trip to the Dinah Shore.
