Thursday, August 10, 2017


I say it every year, but August is the worst! 

Traffic is horrendous. Crowds are everywhere. Lines to buy groceries and lines to buy stamps. There is no small town here right now - this is crazy town.

I have always said if I could escape one month out of every year here, it wouldn't be February like most people - for me it would be August. I dream of a cabin on a lake in the mountains, with a screened-in porch and a little dock with a small boat tied up at the end. I  picture pine trees and crickets and peace and quiet, and never a need to go into town unless the quiet becomes overwhelming. I think of marshmallows over a fire pit and a warm down comforter to ward off the nighttime chill. THAT'S where I want to be in August!

Well that's the dream but the reality is I'm here. So I plan my trips through the village early and I drive around the outskirts as much as possible. No Montauk Highway if I can avoid it. And no grocery stores between 9am and 6pm either.

Its not easy to liver here in August, but its the sacrifice we make for the other eleven months of the year. And as of today, there are only three weeks left... 

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