I wish I had been able to write from Cape Cod where I just finished teaching a 3 day workshop, but I did not have WIFI access most of the time. I could have used my host's computer, but by the time we got home in the evenings and after 2 glasses of wine I was incapable. If I had been blogging I would have sent pictures of these spectacular rhododendrons in bloom all over Chatham and the nearby towns. Maybe I would have sent pictures of the ubiquitous Cape Cod cottages and their lush gardens with iris' all in bloom. But there was no time as we scurried back and forth between Ginny's lovely home and the Chatham Creative Art Center.

I got to hang out with 3 artists I had gotten to briefly know several years ago during another class. I had thought fondly of Rosalie Nadeau, Dale Michaels Wade and Ginny Nickerson during the years and wondered if I'd ever see them again. We picnicked this past Saturday evening at the outer beach, dining on lobster rolls and sushi, trying unsuccessfully to keep the windswept sand out of our food. My expectations were surpassed. It was like coming home to be with them.

I'm writing now from the plane, en route to my Atlanta home. I haven't been able to say that in a long long time. My Atlanta home. After 15 years living 40 minutes west of Atlanta, I'm now ITP again. That's 'Inside the Perimeter' for you who may be unfamiliar with Atlanta's somewhat snobbish vernacular (I know quite a few people who shudder at the thought of going OTP). I'm anxious to see how large my tomato plants have gotten and to see how yesterday's thunderstorm has made my new garden explode.

I'm three chapters into a most disturbing book, "Confessions of a Sociopath - A Life Spent Hiding in Plain Sight," by M.E. Thomas. If that sort of thing intrigues you, pick it up. So far it's alarming, mostly because I'm thinking I'm recognizing some people in my life. I'll have to keep reading..