There seems to be no shortage of fascinating new book releases as of late. Most titles were featured in the October issue of Vanity Fair/Fanfair/Flipping Out with a few of my own favorites thrown into the mix.
So what do you do when the telephone rings 4 days before leaving for a vacation that's been planned for a year only to learn that the house you had rented was flooded and will not be available? Generally, you call your travel agent/realtor and they find you a place to stay. Generally. When said house is located on Martha's Vineyard and the week you booked is not only "Fair Week" but "The 150th Anniversary Fair Week", there are 14 in your party and the President is coming, that simple feat becomes a bit like the Bermuda Triangle of vacation planning. Packing (everything but the kitchen sink) came to a screeching halt, and that special bottle of cognac that was saved for "The Vineyard" was unpacked to keep us company as we sat anxiously by the phone and computer, our week of sun, sand & sea hanging in the balance. Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Two days went by, two long, frustrating days. But sometimes, when things go very, very wrong, as they did, they turn out very, very right.
This is the lovely house we had the privilege of calling "home" for a week. A restored 18th century farmhouse on 8 acres of lush island land. Owned by a young, very talented family man who calls himself a carpenter, but I would call a craftsman. I cannot begin to imagine the hours of painstaking work that went into restoring and creating this beautiful estate, but I am quite certain it was a labor of love. I actually got goosebumps when my friend, who had arrived at the property first, escorted me through the door. I still have them a week later. As the days passed I kept pinching myself, half expecting to see Jane Austen walk through a doorway at any moment.
While days passed and we sat at the shore, survived the wild surf of South Beach with bruises to show for it, saw the fireworks at Oak Bluffs, spent an afternoon at The Fair, took in the spectacular views from Gay Head, played 18 holes at Farm Neck (in spite of getting bumped from the original tee time because Mr. President wanted to play), bumped into David Letterman at Morning Glory Farm, consumed insane amounts of seafood and libations and even jumped off "The Jaws Bridge" at sunset, the best part of this vacation was that we spent it in this beautiful home.