Old shingle houses on the way to the shore.
Paned-glass windows and white trim.
Little rivers in the sand.
Beach grass and black hills.
And sky that never ends.
Conversations in the wind.
A beach house kitchen.
And handmade milkshakes.
Games by the fireplace.
And bittersweet goodbyes.
I know, it's a tired complaint. Really tired. I complain about it all the time. I can't help it. I do try to love it; I try to make it work for me. Every year I'm hopeful it will get better. But it hasn't gotten better in 18 years. In fact, after 18 years I think it's gotten worse.
What if you spent three months out of every year waiting for them to be over? What if you spent six? What about eight? What if you spent eight months out of every year wanting to skip them? That seems like an unacceptable number. That seems sad. That seems like too many months out of the year.
The rain. The darkness. The clouds.
They're simply not for me. They're simply not who I am.
- Watching these blooms turn from bare stems to flowers in a matter of hours.
- Listening to my little guy practice his book report.
- Listening to my girl practice her speech.
- Turning up the heat on a stormy afternoon and taking an indulgent (though much needed) nap under a blanket.
- Bringing our ten-year-old family station wagon into the shop for an extraordinarily thorough cleaning, inside and out. Tremendous.
- Getting to the middle of Harry Potter, Book Six. Brilliant.
- Listening to my little guy practice the piano. One of my favorite sounds in the entire world.
- Planning the veggie garden. It's almost time!
- My hubby making me laugh.
- Watching the National Geographic special on their Top Ten Best Photos.
- Snow.
- Smiling at how my little guy tries to take care of me.
- Smiling at how my girl takes care of herself.
- Looking at how beautiful this town is, even on gray, misty days.
- Seeing the buds on all the trees and knowing spring is almost here.
It was a rainy, windy, blustery day. School was out and we decided to meet the mister downtown. We had a bite to eat and toured some new art. It was wonderful to see him, in his element, in the middle of the afternoon.
Must do it again soon...
We're hoping it sticks.
They're saying it won't.
We're hoping anyway.
The fog flattened out all the color and added a grainy quality that I didn't expect. Almost like black-and-white film.
I love taking pictures of trees.
And fog.
Making, shipping, and cooking during the day.
Wrapping and working at night.
Excited kids (and a tired me).
Only a few things left to do.
And a messy house to clean.
Then the real fun begins.
