My Happy Place

With less than a week before my scheduled, September 10th surgery, we are in Menemsha - a small fishing village on the island of Martha's Vineyard. It is so remote here that our GPS only picks up water. Relaxed...with minimal amounts of clothing, no makeup, and no jewelry unless you count lobster claw, rubber band rings, and turkey feather hair adornment - I am in search of guidance, surgery vs the "wait and watch" approach.

Settled into a private, one bedroom, rustic cottage with a full kitchen, fireplace, and a porch overlooking the ocean, we are happy here and our dogs, Sasha and Lucy, are over the moon!

There is a family of wild turkeys living around us. These are the dumbest birds I've ever seen. When chased, they run in different directions, change directions, bump into each other, and fall down. At first I thought they were reenacting "serpentine" perfected by Peter Falk and Alan Arkin in the classic comedy, "The In-Laws." Then I realized they were just, plane, dumb.

Lucy made friends with two, elitist llamas and a gang of colorful chickens that live just beyond a field of wild flowers that boarder a crystal blue ocean and shell crusted sands. Sasha now prefers sleeping under the porch, covered in spider webs, instead of on our king sized bed, and when awake, roams freely in search of bunnies and squirrels. I don't know how to tell them that we will soon be back in Baltimore (should I choose surgery), amerced in the faux quaintness of an unkept city or (should I choose "wait and watch"), trapped in a tangled, suburban web of leash laws, leaf blowers, and chemically treated lawns that we, reluctantly, call home.

There is no cell phone coverage here and limited internet service, and I like that. This and the wind and wine forces me to slow down.

I don't know why we can't just stay here - if only money didn't matter and there was no such thing as cancer.

What we wake to each morning is the clang of buoy bells, timed perfectly with deep throated moo's from the neighboring farms cows and an echo of caw's from a menagerie of island birds.

We have not been on the island of Martha's Vineyard since our honeymoon - 11 years ago. This is also where Mark SHOCKED me with his wedding proposal, a year earlier, over lobsters and champagne on a deck overlooking Edgartown Harbor. To say I didn't see it coming would be an understatement. At the seasoned age of 42, he was the classic, eternal bachelor - with not a care or kid to his name. His presentation of a tightly bowed tiffany box, left me speechless for almost three days.

This vacation, planned meticulously by my husband, is his way of showing me that he will always be by my side.

Early this morning, we took a precarious walk down a pathway littered with boulders and weathered tree roots, through thickets of sloppy marsh, into the center of town where we were first in line to order lobsters.

While here, I took advantage of the limited menu and also bought lobster bisque, lobster mac and cheese, lobster dip, stuffed clams and clam chowder. If I proceed with surgery it will be a long time before I can dine on such delicacies, so I am savoring every bite.

On our first night, with flash lights in hand, we wandered fifty yards down a dark, gravel pathway to The Beach Plumb Restaurant. Pleased to know in advance that this was a dry town and therefore BYOB, but stunned to learn it was recently revamped into a "farm to table" concept, which meant that, earlier that same day, I met and photographed pending entree's.

The menu was sparse and ridiculously overpriced. As a main course, they ran out of beef and subsidized it with a choice of fish and beans ($38.00) or chicken hearts with pickled beets ($28.00). I asked if I could have the whole chicken, minus the heart, and was abruptly told they ran out. As for the "fresh catch of the day," charging $38.00 for fish in a fishing village is like charging $20.00 for a potato in Idaho.

I elected to have an appetizer of stilton cheese ($17.00) served with vine ripened tomatoes ($12.00) and a baguette the size of my husbands middle finger ($4.00) - I know this because I measured it.

Later that night, I got a bug bite on my right noob and couldn't stop talking about it. I have not felt anything on my chest since my double mastectomy. I now fantasize about crisp night air causing unfathomable, nipple erections.

I love that writing is so endearing to me that I make it a vacation priority. I love knowing that when pain and uncertainty eclipses my sanity, I will medicate with memories of this happy place.

Thank you for reading. Time for more lobster.

xo, MonkeyME