Settling In

The cats have settled in nicely to the cabin, the only problem being their nearly constant interest in eating. We can fed them 5 times a day and it is not too much. We appreciate the appetite after Val's final months, when we had to cajole her to take in the smallest amounts of food. The other two were off their feed too, discomforted by her crashing health. But it is taking time to get used to this newly ravenous appetite.

One of the constants about this enclave of cabins is its safety for children and dogs. The property wraps around its own cove about a half mile from the main route near the southern tip of an ocean peninsula, with seven ramshackle buildings that have been converted for summer rental. Most were working structures for the operation of the whaling captain that first owned this land - the salt house, the hay barn, the stable and other storage. The owners, a sister and a brother, live in two buildings in the middle of the cluster. One occupies the original whaling captain's house each summer and the other lives here year round in a newer house that overlooks the beach and dock. The third sibling lives in a new log cabin at the southern end of the property, on a parcel of land that was sold to him when he and his wife retired. The properties that bound this tract are large, 4 to 8 acres each, mostly forested with one house and limited road access.

As a result of its natural isolation, renters can come here with children and well behaved dogs and not worry if they go exploring. That means that both can show up at your doorstep unannounced, looking for food (the dogs) or direction (the children). I expect that the kids would take food too, but it is less controversial these days to slip a cookie to a dog than a two legged offspring. The owner's grey poodle makes a regular circuit of the cabins once they are occupied, and half the time when we see the owner it is because he decided to track down his dog. His prior poodle stayed by his side constantly, but this one is perpetually vague and wanders at will. Unlike the two black Labradors that showed up on our doorstep last night – telling us that the July regulars in the salt house have arrived – the poodle is also alarmingly close to coyote food. But so far he seems curiously blessed and has escaped being dinner. His vagueness may disguise better survival instincts than we realize.

This truly idyllic spot, characterized by the sounds of sea birds including osprey and a variety of near and offshore birds, sits in a region with lively year round musical and fine arts activities. There is a major chamber concert program that was started by summer vacationers from the Curtis School of Music in Philadelphia and a fine arts museum, both of which have been marvelously managed. Both have also been blessed with high profile supporters that regularly help raise funds and awareness for the programs. The museum, the Farnsworth, has a long time relationship with the Wyeth family most of whom live locally. The Museum has extended its reach into much of the downtown block, putting several buildings back into viable use that would otherwise have been abandoned. The Bay Chamber program maintains its strong relationship with faculty and students of Curtis and the summer program at Blue Hill, and gets strong ongoing support from the Zimbalist family.

One unexpected result of the music connections is that this area works out for serious luthiers. The living is harder than it would be in a large city, but there are enough serious players to keep a good shop going. My violin and bows have been coming on vacation with us for many years now, to go in for their own spa treatment of cleaning and rehairing at this shop. This year I will be coming home with a new violin, or at least new to me. The three that are in the final group run from 1795 to 1923 in their dates. I spent a few hours yesterday sorting through seven violins, each one marvelous in its own right, to settle on two to bring home for more time. These were all instruments that would be the starting point for a young player looking to move up, but they were much better than the one that I have been playing.

It was a confounding experience – I kept going back through playing them, realizing that each was quite different and equally good. I now have no idea how someone who is a world class player decides on a violin. My limited experience yesterday must be the normal one for someone who can access the upper reaches of the violins out there, except they would likely have more made available to them. It may be a relief for players to be loaned instruments from museums – they end up with a remarkable instrument without having to decide whether they want that one, or this one, or the other one...

The hummingbirds are showing up for their morning rounds and the household is awake. It's time to make breakfast.