Six days of nearly continuous clouds and rain. I’ve been amusing myself by writing a Lovecraft pastiche about a rainstorm that never ends and a high tide that refuses to go out. Our house has no heating other than fireplaces, and over the weekend it was so cold that Audry and I had to run down to Eastham for some portable heaters. Audry bought an adorable knit wool fisherman’s cap, and now she looks ready for The Deadliest Catch!
This afternoon, the sun suddenly broke through, and we went tearing off to P.J.’s, our local burger joint. This being Cape Cod, they have terrific lobster rolls and fried clams, too.
Now calling itself P.J.’s Seafood, I have been going here since I was a kid, when it was called P.J.’s Dari-Burger. This is the sort of place where you went to with your older brother (always better to go with your older brother than your parents) for burgers and frappes (what they call milkshakes out here), eaten in the car with the top down and the Beach Boys on the radio.
Last year I was appalled to see that P.J.’s had burgers with asiago cheese (!!!) on the menu, an obvious attempt to compete with the upscale restaurants which have sprouted up in Wellfleet. This year such questionable fare was no longer on the menu – a strange and merciful side effect of the current economy, perhaps. (Click the pic to read the menu – mmm!)
Right next door to P.J.’s is an ancient graveyard…
…whose mouldering stones bespeak an unwholesome antiquity – but there I go off into Lovecraft Land again!
Me writing this: