ABSTRACT
Ever since the late 1960s, the children and I had been spending part of August at the colony of Wellfleet. After I bought my house, in 1980, we went up from July to Labor Day. The house, located near the center of town, dates from the nineteenth century, although the year of construction has been disputed: it is admired for its mansard roof, its large lawn, and its imposing fir trees. Before moving in the plumbing system had to be replaced, the kitchen moved, and the living room connected to the kitchen. But despite unexpected expenses and delays, we soon basked in the breeze on the old-fashioned porch on steamy summer days. William would cover himself from head to toe and armed with a scythe, would go after weeds. It was he who found the tree surgeon, the gardener, the house painter, the handyman, and the woman to cut the lawn; and he mourned for every tree sapling that needed to be removed.
