Martha's Vineyard, 7 July, 2010

I love it when Mother Nature wakes me up in the morning with her warm embrace and bright smile. No shades on the windows and a view straight out to the ocean means wake-up is about 6am today. There's something triple peaceful about the stillness of a hot summer day when you're up before the rest of the world. Reminds me of living on Maui a heap of years ago. So much community was built when shop owners were out washing off their sidewalks together before the tourists descended.

Seems I haven't taken enough time lately to stare at my sleeping children. You don't when your kids are older than, well, 18 months. So I take some time now. I love it when their lips are so relaxed that they form a right proper pout as they snooze. In true form - since he was a month old - my eldest has managed to pull the corners of the fitted sheet up while he's slept. I wonder what's dancing in his head, and remember that I dreamt of rolling hills and flat tires :-(

My daughter stirs herself awake with a cough that's more like a bark this morning. Still, she hops up with a smile and begs to go downstairs and have a go with the coffee pod machine. How could I possibly turn that offer down? (Despite visions of scalded hazelnut grinds splattered on the lobby walls.) "Two milks" I counsel as she slips into the hall with shorts barely pulled up.

This morning we'll be cycling to Edgartown. It looks about 9 miles up the road, with a bike path most of the way. Scorching temps approaching, I stir the troops around 7:30am with a rousing chorus of 'Smoke On The Water' blaring from the tiny clock radio in our room. My little drummer boy stares at this funny contraption and ponders how such racket can come from so tiny a device, as we all bumble into our clothes. It's all about headphones these days, and I've thought more than once how nice an electric drum set with wires to his ears might be. Mixing our packets of powdered Propel with tap water for our bottles on the way out, there's a palatable sense of adventure in the air. We wade through the mix of sleek road bikes and beat up town cruisers in the shed and head off.

On the way out of town we coast right past the bike path and stay on the road. Oops! We have to stop and lift our bikes over the barrier. These kids aren't used to riding on sidewalks, I take them right into the mix at home, turn lanes and all. We're not used to concessions for cyclists. It occurs to me as we ride that cycling with children is great peloton training; they're speed sporadic and wiggly and it hones your reaction times. Plus, they chat constantly so you have to ride their wheel to hear them.

Half a sunburn later we reach the town. We lock our bikes at the racks provided (space for about 80 bikes I count!) and wander off. What a charming (and very sophisticated) little whaling village. MUST come back soon! We stop for ice cream then hike out to the lighthouse. I love lighthouses, and New England does not disappoint.

Hot from the noon sun we strip off our shoes and dip our feet in the warm inlet water, with hermit crabs tickling our toes. Ever cognizant that Spain v Germany starts in a few hours, we grab some chubby deli sandwiches and share a park bench at St. Andrew's church to eat. A small group emerges from the church proudly carrying a newly christened baby girl and gives us mean glances for destroying their well choreographed plan to 'leave church at 12:42pm, take photos from bench at 12:43pm.' I bask in my accidental power for as long as my kindness will allow (8 minutes) then rally the kids, ignoring quizzical glances from my daughter who holds a less than half eaten egg salad on wheat toast in her paws.

The ride back to Oak Bluffs is swift and familiar. I am just beginning to appreciate the beauty of a bike basket. I recommend it to everyone who has stuffed tools, tubes, phones and money into an uber aero under seat bag. It's a lovely reminder that life is not a race. In fact, it's better if you take your time and carry a big camera :-) We shower our parched bodies immediately upon our return and decide to catch the match in-house this afternoon. We quickly evolve into a nest of nappers. But the long day calls us out once more for a mini bike tour, and spot of frisbee on the green, topped off with a round of cheesecake.

There's a fabulous open air tabernacle just of Main Street that was built when the island was a church camp. These days it's rare that I find a venue where I want to do a concert, but this 1,000 seat hall intrigues me. I get the sense that I'll be back producing here someday, and I carry that happy anticipation well into the evening.