Pepper in the sand
slight seasoning for the senses
a small fire for the tongue.
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I had a glum sort of day yesterday. Remembrance Day is always a somber day in Canada. Whenever it rolls around, all I can do is dwell on the image of young men in trenches in WWI and WWII…and now…young men in trenches still…all over the world. It weighs on me, November 11, every single year. I’m sorry if you found my last post depressing. Every time Remembrance Day rolls around I find myself in so serious a mood, I walk around with easily wetted eyes and the feel of the heartache and weight of war stinging in my breast. My gloom was further compounded by feelings of homesickness — the missingitude (not a real word…but in case you’re wondering, it’s a splice between magnitude and missing) of my home, my man, my friends, my pets, my mountains. Sigh oh sigh! Traveling is the best and worst of times!
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Today, you know, I had a fabulous day.
I spent a few hours in my engraving workshop this morning followed by a delightful lunch with friends. I said good bye to one of my dearest friends as she continues her journey through Southern California and then I went walking for a few hours, on the sea shore, with a woman who is quickly earning my respect and love. She’s like my other, other mother. You know the kind! The kind of girl you just want to hang on to, a mother to all, a lady always, a staunch gal who really knows how to get her mind across. What a chickadee. What a chickadee.
We just strolled and strolled by the feathered fingertips of the ocean this afternoon; scooping up sea shells, running from the reach of the waves. At some point I wound up telling the entire story of Robert and I, I cried a bit (I always do, in the telling of that story, it’s too miraculous not to…I’m too thankful for him, not to…).
And then I took a photo for a pair of Canadians on the beach and they said, eh, and it felt great to be with my own kind for a moment. I filled my pockets with beach things. I daydreamed about making mobiles when I arrive home, like I did so long ago, in New Zealand.*** I bought a few tubes of lipstick over at Sephora, sipped a tasty tea latte and laughed out loud so many times.
I hope your day was just as wonderful.
And if it wasn’t, I hope you see shore birds tomorrow, or a tidy flock of starling, and
feel the spice of their witty landlubbing rapport with the sand and sun.
I hope they lift your heart up, like a thousand sprays of gentle pepper
and carry your soul closer to the warmth of the sun.
I hope each feather
they leave for you
there on the beach,
close to the weeping fingers of the surf,
serves to remind you of the fact that
your wings are wide.
It won’t be long now,
Plume
***The first gift I ever bestowed upon RW was a seashell and driftwood mobile I crafted out of beach combed components I collected at Raglan, New Zealand. He hung it outside his dorm room at the school we attended in that lovely country. In return, he gave me a magical copy of Joseph Conrad’s Typhoon and Youth. He watercolor painted a ocean scene on the cover, wrote me a long letter on the initial title pages and then gift wrapped it in corn husks and put it in my mailbox. What a romantic first gift exchange. We were so beautiful. We’re still beautiful. I love him so.
So divine, you lovely plumegal…to think you so close is both warming and distant…i sentiment with you on yesterday, being the only american in a canadian household…thank you again for being in this space..for who you are..for what you bring forth…delight in it all.
oh, you ARE beautiful indeed! thank you, little shorebird, for turning my evening around.
All I can say is that I love you so much…..you make my life so worthwhile with your blogs of life and times. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You make me think deeper than I would if I didn't know you, make me love life more every day and make me soooooo thankful that I have the man I have and we are so fortunate in life. Hugs to you and again, I thank God for letting me be a part of your life and helping me to grow just a little bit every day!!!!!!! p.s. I hugged my veteran today and thanked God for bringing him home to me from Vietnam:O) XXOO Sal
Oh my, my.
That is all, you know the rest, and you have YOUR man :). My hubby is much like your's, swell, and he suprises me, as his own humor. Part of their job is to make us laugh, that's a full time job, achieved only by hubby!
xoxo, k-f-l-etcher
Gorgeous spirited Jillian, sending you lots of love.
today was a rough one, a struggle with self.
BUT
'to remind you of the fact that your wings are wide.' this lightens my heart.
by the bye, you and RW – just too damn cute. lovebirds.
xox
ps. I spent $200+ at Sephora today. You have to save up when you live in small towns. I know you know this. I love Sephora. Have you tried the Urban Decay Liners, both eye and lip? Goes on like a dream. And the U.D. shadows have soooo much glitter. I cashed in, did you? What Sephora finds did you enjoy? Being out of the loop, in the backwoods country, we lose touch…but in a good way.
Later HOT MAMA,
BiZ
ps. when my hair gets longer, I need an up-do lesson with bobbys, only provided by the plume. I'm looking for a hot-house-wife-look, with some tressles. Snort, giggle, hee,hee.
"…In my mind I can't study war, no more."
It's easy for folks in my cohort, who took stands against the Vietnam War and supported its vets, to feel despair in the face of the wars that rage today. "When will we ever learn?" But as long as we live and people like you keep coming, there's hope.
I'm so happy for you!! It's seems this trip is going wonderful!! Have a great week end too!!
Warmly
*sigh* i have been missing reading your words. so happy you are back.
I think that it is wonderful to have someone so young, be so moved at the loss of life so long ago. I am old enough to have had a Grandfather that was a medic in the Battle of the Somme, and a father and mother that helped concentration camp victims after WWII. My Mom grew up in Scotland and was only 16 when WWII began, she was living in London at the time and her schooling had to stop, she moved back to the country where it was safer from the bombing. Everyone had to put their lives on hold and help out with the war effort, their lives literally depended on it. I am encouraging her to write all these memories down, so we can remember.
Sandpipers…sandpeppers?
They were part of my childhood and I loved them too.
x
Mum has been collecting janthina shells (the lovely round purple snail shells) from the main beach in Raglan for my seven-year-old niece who loves making jewelry and beading. My sister made a comment about some of the shells being a bit smelly (apparently some still housed their now very dead inhabitants!), but my niece just said, "It's okay, Nana. I don't mind if they're a bit pongy. But, maybe next time you can find some bigger ones!"
=)
Marvelous, thank you for sharing!
xoxo
Irina
P.S. There should be a surprise waiting for you at home 😉