The first time the sun roof’s motor broke, it was Easter Sunday. As if it were a log splitter, four cousins used the force of the sliding glass to pulverize sticks. Punishments were harsh and swift. But I couldn’t help smiling every time I imagined the four of them experimenting with their father’s / uncle’s almost new car to see what havoc it could wreak on a stick.

This time, a Thule soft-pack luggage carrier rested on top of the car, balancing precipitously in front of the Four Bicycles of the Apocalypse. Just a few days into our vacation, we were leaving our temporary digs and headed for Chappy as we waited for the next week’s vacation house to become available to us. We’d heard the seas were rough from Hurricane Bill, and we wanted to see it first-hand. Parked in a precious and rare spot in the parking lot of Espresso Love in Edgartown, I noticed the sunroof was open, so I tried to close it.

Click. Click. Click click click click.

Nothing.

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Why would we ever want to leave? More after the jump.

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The hurricane left angry seas in its wake, making today the first day we swam in the ocean. But it’s aallllllll goooood. Except for the broken sunroof. And the dog who was certain the skunk was an innocent little kitty who was dying to say HI!

republished with pictures that didn’t stick in the WordPress iPhone app

The answer was almost always the same: lasagna. Angel food cake with fudge icing.

Except for those dark, early years when I seemed to favor layer cake with lemon (ewww!) filling and buttercream frosting.

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He is a CPA.

And I have an MBA, having earned an A- in statistics only by the grace of the bell curve. I didn’t fare quite so well in Finance. But I thought I could count. And I was sure he could.

Neither of us has had coffee yet. We’ve finished the warmup. It’s 6:12 am.

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