Chappy is a part of Edgartown. In essence, we belong to Edgartown; we are one of her holdings. But days like this one, the rainy breezy late summer season ones, remind me how far apart we are from our parent company. No matter the weather, there will ways be a discrepancy in the mood and vibe of the two places. Chappy will never be as active. But the subtlety becomes obvious when the sky closes in: Chappy chooses to pull the covers back over its head and settle in for a nap, while Edgartown revs up for a consumer hoe-down. Arriving in Edgartown from the Chappy ferry on a low pressure day is like waking up from a dream to discover that there’s a party in your living room.
Our Big Camp tenants are long-term dog sitting a small white pooch, so he has come along on their vacation. The other night, my cat Alphonso was more agitated than usual at his lookout window, so I checked out his sight-line. Sure enough, across the lawn in the Big Camp kitchen was the white pooch, patrolling the counter tops. This offended Alphonso’s sense of proper kitchen etiquette (for dogs, not cats). I didn’t think much of it — I’d seen Labradors up there before. But apparently there was a banana bread sharing his patrol space, and it needed to be gnawed upon. I know this because our tenants reported the next morning that they had returned home from dinner out to discover what could only be the workings of an obscenely large rat. Personally, I would have immediately suspected pooch (those puppy eyes don’t fool me), but it took setting up a webcam to assuage their rat worries. Busted.
I’m not a fan of rats. My brothers spent the better part of my adolescence convincing me that my impending demise would be at the sticky little paws of a horde of rats (I watched one too many 70s rat movies). So when I saw what looked to be an immense baby buffalo rat lounging in the shade of a cedar off my third green, I was understandably distressed. Perhaps my siblings’ prediction was about to become manifest. Upon description of this supposed rat to someone a bit more rational, we determined that it was a muskrat and not a genetically mutated super rat. My credibility as a naturalist, shaky at best to start, took a further blow with this obvious misdiagnosis of critters, but it was a small price to pay for the knowledge of being able to sleep that night.
I saw three ospreys flying together, though one seemed to be the third wheel (perhaps an annoying younger brother), because it sure seemed like two of the ospreys were doing their best to ditch him.
In CCC news: Lynn Martinka writes that the 2015 calendar photo contest voting has ended, and because the first tally was so close a recount is in order. She will be in touch with those of you who have been selected.
The Mac Lady, Melissa Kagan, will offer Mobile Devices 101 at the community center on Monday, August 18, at 4 p.m.
It won’t be long before Chappy potlucks begin. The first is scheduled for Wednesday, Sept. 17, and we need hosts. It doesn’t take much. If you would like to be a host for this first one, or any other future dates, please email (email@example.com) or call the office, 508-627-8222.
Come join us overlooking Brines Pond for a great night of music this Saturday, August 16, featuring The Cattle Drivers with Chappy’s own Kevin Keady. The concert starts at 6 p.m. We will have chairs set up, but also lawn space available for those that would like to bring blankets. Cost is $10 for adults, $5 for children, and there is a $40 cap for families.
Thank you to Alex Dunbrack for all of his help in the office at the community center this summer! He has gone back home to Florida and then on to his next adventure to start his first year at University of Alabama. Good luck, Alex!
Send your Chappy news to: firstname.lastname@example.org.