It definitely is/was hot. The heat index was 105-110...oh, not Phoenix hot
where Allison lives with blinds pulled to keep heat out...not Tampa hot with
humidity that keeps Adam and Tony on the boat as much as possible..and not
Midwest hot which makes corn grow high and fireflies scattered across Indiana
fields like sparklers..but just hot enough for late afternoon beach swims and ice
cream cones that drip all over the new white tee-shirts.

They (THE TOURISTS) come into the shop with sweat beads across foreheads (and
other exposed parts) sporting tank tops from L.A. to Nebraska to Virginia
Beach. Their speech is colorful with the accent of their hometown. They (THE
TOURISTS) walk into the shops sighing relief of the air conditioning (we are off
the beaten path, down a road paved with clam shells and picket fences) and
lured into the shop by the smells...smells of cedar from the floors and
walls...smells of soaps of lavender/sea and warm clove...It is a delight to welcome
them (THE TOURISTS), to point out places of interests on the local map..answer
most of their questions...wrap their hand crafted items in tissue paper for a
safe journey back home. They always ask questions that are typical of most
tourists here....did you stay for the Hurricane? What is like in the winter?
Personal questions also...the first couple of weeks...well, I said, I am not
from here, just visiting my friend for the summer and working. They were a bit
disappointed in that answer. Now I tell them all about the hurricane and the
winters here...they are satisfied. How did a girl from Indiana come
here...and, oh, it must be fun. Yes, it is, I answer. How did I get here? What is the
reason we throw caution to the wind to change our life????? You answer that
one.

The Community Store.
Each day I ride my bike into the village for supplies (our refrigerator is
apartment size...), and to chat on the pizer (the front porch of the store), the
old timers (and young timers) hang out there watching THE TOURISTS and
visiting with each other. I like it that they know my name and I theirs. I read
the bulletin board outside the small store which is a big wooden framed building
with nooks and crannies. It is allright to shop barefooted there, we all
work barefooted anyway. The bulletin board announces everything we need to know,
we depend on it for our news. Agnes Wren had a birthday this week, Mary
Brown had her bike stolen, and the baby shower for Amy and David would be on
Friday at 3:00 at the community center. Amy is Philip's second child, his
daughter. She is an island daughter and is expecting an island baby. I have come to
realize that the baby belongs to everyone...she is the beautiful pregnant
young woman who rides her bike daily from place to place on the island, works
several jobs (everyone does in the summer), comes up to the apartment for fresh
cold water or warm chocolate chip cookies. Her husband, David, is the island
fiddler. The community center was full of well wishers for their shower..women
brought flowers and food and everyone carried gifts for the child. Some were
newly purchased, other gifts were washed and scrubbed from their own
children's cupboards and chiffarobes...some were hand made. All were given with love
and wishes.

As I sit and write this quiet Sunday morning...the cemetery across my window
is quiet. It is neat and tidy as Philip worked over there yesterday. Howard
Street is also quiet. We have been invited for Sunday dinner, then a swim at
the beach, and the evening at the Pub listening to one of our favorite
musicians, Martin. Maybe he will play our song tonight...we will toast the summer
and the evening with a glass of ale, watch the sunset over the Pamlico Sound and
be glad it is now.

Family news:

Aaron and Karen will be traveling back to Indiana from Atlanta to set up
housekeeping at the farm house and wait for the birth of their baby in September.
Abe and Kristin are packing and getting ready for their one year
anniversary..a trip to Hawaii. Jack and Denise will also be traveling from Galveston to
Hawaii. Mom and Dad are now tucked into the House at White Picket Gardens in
Indiana after a long drive...they say the grass is green and the flowers are
blooming. My friend Ellen (and other storytelling friends) will be arriving
home from Washington State after attending the storytelling conference.

As for me...I think I will just stay home. Love, Lou Ann

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