Love-Hate Affair

“Oh my G-d, look at those flowers. Just beautiful. And that house. It used to owned by Mr. ____, he ran _____ Corporation. There’s no place like this anywhere. It’s so special.”

That was my mother talking yesterday as we drove around the downtown part of Nantucket Island where my family has spent summers since the 1960s.

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The Boys of Summer

Preppy-Hair-and-Grooming

In the early 1960s, my parents discovered Nantucket, long before the island became the popular upscale resort it is today. Each summer for a month, we would pack up the station wagon, tie the sailfish (a surfboard-like sailboat) to the roof, stuff the station wagon with clothes, diapers, a crib, my little sister and baby brother.  My father and mother would drive us to Woods Hole for the ferry ride to the island. We stayed in a small furnished cottage near the center of town that was part of a property of three cottages. The cottage we most often rented had a plaque above the door that named our summer home, After Cabin.
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