I've lived near the ocean since I was twelve. Well, aside from that quick two year tour in the midwest… but even then we lived on Lake Superior…. which will fool you a bit as trying to be an ocean. I know the smell and sound of her by heart. And while sitting at the beach in the sun is lovely, my true love is walking along the shore. Even better, standing at her edge before a storm. Watching the waves pick up… hearing the wind whip around… the sound of the water crashing onto the rocks and then the sudden sucking noise as it quickly returns to the sea. It's powerful. And since becoming a mother, it always reminds me a bit of birth.

We drove to our favorite beach this week after a good snowstorm. I made the kids wear their new long underwear and packed us all snacks for the way home. We had to park outside the gate and walk in. The cold wind almost surprising after a car ride in a toasty warm car. We huff and puff down the trail and then slip off the side to get a break from the wind. As soon as their boots touch the sand the kids are off. Their usual squabble is replaced by a combination of vast space between them or the two of them shoulder to shoulder looking at creatures in tide pools. Ebb and flow….

They must be so cold, Sophie says. Quickly putting a hermit crab back into the water.

Dad, tell me again why the ocean doesn't freeze, Luke asks. 

We walk and walk. Our bodies warm. The gloves come off and jackets get unzipped. The salty air fills my lungs and kisses my skin.

The kids wander ahead of Joe & I, and we begin to talk. About our plans. The farm. How to get from here to there. How long will it take to save enough money to begin building. Can't we really just build a tiny house and rough it? Would the kids hate us forever? Will there be for four or six of us  by then, how can our big kids be turning 18 & 20 this fall? Is he sure he is opposed to goats? (I'm slowly winning him over on the last one.) I'm a planner, a dreamer. I need details and goals to motivate me. Joe is pragmatic, steady. I'm thinking of what dairy goats would suit us best and he's thinking about fixing up his parent's old tractor so he can keep the front part of our property cleared until we build. I like to think we make a good pair though.

Will you miss this? I ask him. Will you miss being able to hop in the car and drive thirty minutes to one of the most beautiful beaches in New England?

He is slow to answer. I think about all the years he has spent on a ship at sea. His entire career interwoven with boats and salty air. My sailor boy. And then I think about all the reasons we chose the woods over the ocean. It wasn't an easy decision, but it feels right. It feels like us. Still, I wonder, will I miss it more than I think?

I look forward to visiting, he answers. 

And then Luke yells to us, something about icicles at the beach being salty. I am eating the ocean! He shouts. I have a taste. Cold. Salty. Me too, I tell him. 

xo,

s

We're getting settled in here at home after our trip.

The warm sunshine was amazing. The time with friends even better.

I spent so much time laughing and talking and just being with those people I love so dearly.

The kids did the very same…. staying up way too late and falling asleep in piles of blankets and pillows like puppies. 

The day we left, heavy fog hung in the air and the deep blue morning sky was framed by the silhouette of oak leaves. I stood in the driveway, looking up, feeling so grateful my heart could burst. (picture taken with my phone)

It was magic. Our hearts are full.

Happy weekending to you.

xo,

s

It's doing it again right now.

Snowing.

Thank goodness Joe built a plow. (Out of a riding mower without a mowing deck and a plow blade – both given to him by people moving). He taught the girl how to drive it and this last storm she scooped snow to the edge of our ever shrinking driveway and he shoveled it over the berm. 

I'm actually not sick of it, the snow, which I hate to admit because I know a lot of you are. But the truth is, it doesn't really cramp my style. Only one of the kids gets snow days. So does the man, but that's kind of a sweet deal. It piles up. I get a workout from shoveling. I need that workout, believe me. I need the motivation to get out there. Work to be done does that. Except when the guy gets a snow day and he says I should spend the day in the studio. And so I do. There was that one part where the roof had to be shoveled, and the enormous icicles entangled the outdoor lights I had forgotten to take down, and we used a dozen or more buckets of hot water (which I sent out the second floor window to Joe who was on the roof) to melt a huge ice dam threatening to damage our roof. That part was a little crappy. 

But the rest of it? The garden is under nearly three feet. Dogs wade belly deep to try and find their beloved sticks. We are all bundled in layer upon layer to keep warm. Extra seeds get tossed on top of the snow for our forest friends and to our chickens. The bees quietly buzz away. Snowflakes on your nose. Kids playing in a hammock and flailing themselves off into the fluff. As it starts falling again, I can stand still and watch for what seems like forever. A little in love, a little in awe. I'm convinced it is one of the last magical things as a grown up as I watch it flutter from heaven to the earth…. yeah, I'm still kinda digging it. With soul and biceps.

xo,

s

So late last week I wrote this whole blog post about winter having failure to commit. I think I said something like if it wasn't going to snow, it could just forget about being winter and let spring come.

The following morning before I posted it, Joe sat chuckling over the weather forecast while I sipped my first cup of coffee. It seems winter had read my mind, and had just a little bit of snow in the plans….

I think we got around 20 inches or so. It was hard to tell because the wind blew SO much that we had 3+ foot drifts in some spots. Like the entire back porch! The big kid, Joe & I spent around 5 hours shoveling. It was insane. And beautiful. And we've enjoyed playing in it. 

Today I stayed in the warm studio, tidying, while Joe & Sophie built a snow cave. I laughed at my teenagers….. peering over the balcony at the icy house construction below. In bare feet! And shorts! What is it with kids this age? They crack me up. Meanwhile, I am in the study in wool socks. Slippers. Layers upon layers of fleece. Cozy.

There is soup simmering on the stove for supper and I didn't even make it. The best kind of dinner, right? The snow cave builders are just coming in with smiles and rosy cheeks. Two whole snow days! Such a treat.

Thank you winter…. sorry for thinking you weren't going to come through.

Hope all of you are cozy.

xo~
s

there is magic in capturing light. those mystic rainbow hued orbs. i know they are reflections of light on glass, but sometimes i like to think of them as something more. and perhaps they are…..

cheers to new beginnings, fresh starts, and hearts filled with hope and wonder and light.

happy 2015

xo,

s

We made a trip to our favorite beach.

I love the off season out there. It's quiet and we usually have the shoreline all to ourselves. Sometimes I dream of living in a little cottage, walking distance to a rocky beach falling into the sea. Just like Miss Rumphius. 

(You know, before you get all serious and consider how expensive waterfront real estate is. Or taxes in coastal New England.) 

This fall has had some unusually warm days here and there and the kids took full advantage by playing tag with the waves. Water always recharges my spirit. The man's too. Makes sense since he's a pisces and I'm a capricorn, stubborn goat with a fish tail. hmm.

Enough random babbling though, why don't you join us for our walk………

xo~
s