time management

Jean and her husband Jim are both social and gregarious. People gravitate to their warmth and openness. And although they've been living on the Cape full time for a little over a year, already they have many local friends.

Saturday night they host a party, and invite about 30 people. Some they knew from before the Cape, some they've re-connected with, and others they've just met. Everyone mixes well together, and it's an easy-going, fun group.

Among the many guests is Roxy, Jean and Jim's adorable, and well-behaved dog.

My sister is definitely one of the best hostesses I know. She can effortlessly entertain large groups. Prepare incredible food (her tuna tartare and avocado toast points were incredible). And make everyone feel comfortable. My mom and I, by Cape standards, get home late. About 10:30. And tomorrow is a very early day.

My mother has this thing about being late. She admits it. "Look, I'm not afraid of most things (which she isn't). But I am afraid of being late." Then she'll add, "I've always been this way."  That's the best explanation she can give.

Before going to bed, my mom tells me we are leaving at 5:30. My bus leaves from Sagamore at 6:35. Sagamore is 16 miles from my mom’s house.  We no negotiate to 5:35. 

“Mom, it doesn’t take an hour to get to Sagamore.” 

“I just want to leave plenty of time. I don’t know where I’m going (she does) and there’s always a lot of traffic on a Sunday morning (there’s of course none)."

We end up leaving at 5:44 and my poor mother is near-frantic. There are no other cars on the road. My mom gets to the bus station easily. We are there at 6:05. The parking lot is empty. We are alone.

We sit in the car ( with the door open for fear that if the door is locked the ignition could lock). Finally. around 6:25, two other passengers show up. 

One of my mom’s weak arguments for leaving early was, “There will be a lot of people on the bus and I want to make sure you get a seat.” So I ask her to take a picture of me with ALL the other passengers.


Now my mother is a self-admitted poor photographer. But an iPhone is pretty easy to use. I show her what button to press, set up the shot, and go stand with the two amicable fellow passengers.

Here's her unedited photo.

I love watching my mom laugh. She has a great sense of humor and we both find her photo hilarious.

Her re-do is a little better.

I'm at South Station by 7:30; it takes less than an hour.