Women even relax sometimes.
A few days on a wee island. Sand. Confused Dog. Two (rapidly) aging parents (um, that would be me and Mr Brilliant). Three kids (and no, I’ve not been hiding one, and haven’t given birth recently–Emma brought a friend because we are so completely and totally boring to be with now). Bikes. Books. Moleskine. 3×5 cards in my back pocket. Binocular microscope (one guess who brought that). Easter baskets. Blueberries. Blue jeans. Marsh. Flip Flops. DVDs with 812 "Lost" episodes (I blame David for that particular addiction). Cotton candy. 5-1/2 hour drive in too-small vehicle to accommodate all of the above. Joy. Rest. Sunrise over water. Oh, who am I kidding? I’m not getting up at sunrise here.
(Yes, Mama, I know Tessie’s helmet is on sideways and too big. She put on her dad’s helmet for the photo.)
(Yes, Mama, I know there are no pictures of Emma, who is now at the "don’t post that picture, I look terrible" phase of her life).
(Yes, Mama, Tess is warm enough, we’re not letting the sharks eat her, the Easter Bunny did find us, and Tessie’s eyes will not stick like that.)
A favorite seaside poem for the occasion:
maggie and millie and molly and may
maggie and millie and molly and may
went down to the beach (to play one day)
and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn’t remember her troubles,and
millie befriended a stranded star
who’s rays five languid fingers were;
and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and
may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.
For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea.”
