Of Salt and Sand, Vacation Part 1

We human kind consider ourselves creatures of the land, even though our first existence was one of liquid. Maybe those first slow, quiet months of awakening are the reason that we now, as a whole, crave to be submerged in water. The reason we find ultimate peace in the salty embrace of ocean water, or the warmth of a bath.

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We camped in Charleston, on the opening days of our vacation. I’d been craving the beach for months.

It was a Saturday, and the beach was populated by bathers, and later, by a wedding party. We went on a long walk, the damp sand working the tiredness of hours out of my feet. Later I went for a swim alone. Nature has always seemed like a quiet, wise old friend to me. Somehow it belongs to me, it’s personal. Swimming takes you away from the world, brings the thoughts of your mind to the forefront, to be heard. I paddled about in the salty water, the sun glinting brightly on the water, on my wet face. The breeze was warm. Out in the deeper water, a fishing boat waited patiently for a catch. In the surf, a stunningly beautiful dark-skinned woman stood talking to a woman who looked as if a marble statue from the Met had come to life and escaped to the beach.

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I took some pictures, with paintings in mind. I took some pictures, of my sweet boys, who are just making friends with the world.

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*for book nerds only

There’s an annual book fair in Blacksburg at the YMCA. The first year we went, we dropped $200. They put these white stickers with amazing stick-power on the books. Some I try to remove, some I leave on. 40 years from now, when I pull a book off the shelf and see either a yellowed sticker or the remnants of one, I will remember the trashy building with tables laden with used books.

I grew up without tv, so naturally, since human beings love being transported out of our real lives, (no, reality tv didn’t invent that, we’ve been doing that ever since cave paintings) books were a big part of our family. Trips and bike rides to the library were a regular thing. 6 kids equals a tall stack of books. Thankfully, i did not inherit my passion for incurring library fines from my parents. People who use ringer-washers do not believe in library fines.

My mother read to us at night, something I do with my sons and hope to continue. She would read, and fall asleep reading. She read us Sugar Creek Gang and Little Britches and Little House on the Prairie. (Probably something to do with the fact that I now have a son named Wilder) And, because she was a clever woman, she read us Jeanette Oak love stories. And we loved them. If mommy blogs were a thing back in the 90’s, my mom shoulda had one. “How to read romance novels to your kids and make them think it was for them” would have gone viral.

Here’s my loot from this year… it’s a small loot, but has some treasures none-the-less.

A book of Van Gogh's drawings

A book of Van Gogh’s drawings

detail of the Van Gogh

detail of the Van Gogh

just one more...

just one more…

image

detail of Cassatt

detail of Cassatt

One of my favorite Artists.

One of my favorite Artists.

detail of Lautrec

detail of Lautrec

Got this for $5. It was a hot book a couple years ago. This man's mind...

Got this for $5. It was a hot book a couple years ago. This man’s mind…

Willa Cather. I know someone who names their daughter after her. If you're wondering why, read her.

Willa Cather. I know someone who names their daughter after her. If you’re wondering why, read her.

Great.Literature.  for Kingston :)

Great.Literature.
for Kingston 🙂

*Not pictured, F.Scott Fitzgerald’s Tender is the Night. The cover art is terrible, so don’t feel left out.

what I’ve said before…