The unrelenting heat of a Tennessee summer morning has me longing for vacation. My mind is anything but idle, as I long for the cool breezes and idyllic beauty of Cape Cod.  Memories of one such anticipated vacation several years ago settle in, and I’m transported far, far away…

I awakened to the sound of the bay waters touching the beach, gentle and rhythmic, ah vacation….  Before flying out on our yearly excursion to Cape Cod, an article appeared in the local paper. A yoga instructor in town writes the column, and I often enjoy her insights into life’s daily routines.  This particular piece was all about expectations, how we’re not supposed to have them because we need to “be here now”, and live in the moment.  Don’t expect anything, and you won’t be disappointed, that sort of thing.  I read with interest because we’ve rented a new condo for our much anticipated week away from our normal lives, and although it looked cute as a button on the realtor’s website pictures, one never knows until the key is in the door.  I was filled with expectation, my cup was running over with expectation.  We’re shelling out big bucks for a place on the water, so we’re blowing the wad as they say.  The writer goes on to say that expectation is different than hope.  Expectation predicts a particular outcome that one can neither anticipate, or control.  Expectation inevitably produces worry.  Worry about future events, and the circumstances that may or may not materialize.  The whole “be here now” thing is hard for me.  I always want to be someplace other than where I am.  Always restless, and trying to find home. That’s a recurring dream of mine, a horrifying place of homelessness. It’s difficult to be here now, when you yearn to be someplace else, and the place that has filled me so deeply with expectation is Cape Cod, Provincetown to be specific. The cool evening breezes of Cape Cod and sweatshirt weather, as I fondly refer to it.  Beautiful days spent on the beach at Herring Cove, cool nights wandering the streets of Provincetown, gazing in shop windows.  

This year we’re renting a new place we’ve only seen in pictures.  I expect it to be great, right on the water, overlooking Provincetown harbor. No air-conditioning though, just the sea breeze.  I’m expecting that the rental property won’t be excessively hot.  One can only hope, expect?  I’m hoping that we’ll have a great week of weather.  Is that too much to expect from your vacation?  A week away from work and the reality of your day to day.  I have a lot of expectations.  I’ve been anticipating the moment of our arrival at the condo, the key in the door moment.  Is our home for the week all that I expect it to be?  Another much anticipated moment is luxuriating with my morning coffee on the deck, looking at the boats swinging back and forth with the current, tethered to their moorings, and the unmistakable effusion of salt air as it passes over and around you.

Vacation finally upon us, the thrill of opening the front door for the first time and gathering in the harbor view was all that I had hoped for and more!  The little condo on Provincetown harbor is cuter than a button and it exceeds my expectations!  The view of the boats and the coastline is breathtaking.  There’s no place like this on earth.  Of course there’s the natural beauty of the place, the way the land curls out into the Atlantic forming it’s unique sand dunes and topography.  Then there’s the unique culture and diversity of the place.  There are the Portuguese residents, who make up the majority of the fishing fleet.  The community of writers, painters and artists of every type is thriving here.  Galleries galore, it’s quite inspiring to a wannabe artist like myself.  Most important to for me is the diversity and equality here.  The attitude of “live and let live” that permeates everything and everyone here is refreshing in a world that is oft characterized by bigotry and intolerance.  If only the world could follow that credo.

It’s so simple really.  I do my thing, and you’re free to do yours, without judgment and condemnation. I respect your right to live as you choose. We spend one week a year in this other world, this incredible, wonderful place.  How could you not be filled with expectation?

Our first enviable morning of vacation finds me in the galley kitchen opening cabinets looking for a receptacle to hold my brewing coffee.  I find the usual unremarkable coffee mugs resting on the shelf.  I don’t drink my coffee out of just any mug normally.  Coffee drinking is pleasurable for me and I expect to enjoy the experience by sipping the nectar from an artistically executed vessel. It’s all I can do when preparing for vacation, not to pack my favorite mug, so as to ensure the caffeinated experience.  But I’m somewhat adventurous, so I’ll expect to find a suitable receptacle in our rented home away from home. Remembering that one of my expectations is to sit on the deck in the morning with a hot cup of joe, I move the coffee cups in the cupboard, and way in the back, all by itself, sat the most incredibly understated mug.  It obviously did not want to associate with the other, shall we say, tacky vacation home mugs, with their loudly colored glazes screaming “vacation, store bought nothingness”.  No not this one.  She’s regal in her dressed down finish, earthy brown clay body, with a burnt umber matte glaze.  Standing about five inches high, the mug has a simple, not contrived handle that fits me like a glove.  The quintessential coffee mug, a marriage of form and function.  The embodiment of the Japanese esthetic, Shibui,  simplicity of line and form.  Rustic, quiet and restrained beauty.  It’s gonna be a great vacation starting out this way.  I expect it to be, anyway.