Most of last week was spent relaxing on beautiful Cape Cod. Provincetown, to be exact. My friend Jules was kind enough to invite me, and we spent the time walking her cute little dog, Gomez (see below), eating lobster rolls (okay, that was just me), and reading books. BTW, I highly recommend Joe Queenan's new memoir, Closing Time.
One of the highlights was a trip to Edward Gorey's house. Isn't it cute? Apparently it was covered in vines when Gorey lived there, but they've since cleaned it up.
This is the spooky mailbox which, by the time we left, had been knocked over by some bad driver. (And no, it wasn't us—I swear!)
Gorey was a big collector of all kinds of stuff, both crazy, creepy and mundane. I loved this weird little baby . . .
. . . and this odd little display of tacks.
My trip also included a brief layover in Boston where I stumbled across this helpful warning in the ladies room of the crappy sports bar where I ate lunch. Women of Beantown—consider yourself warned!