Tag Archives: memories

Maine’s House

Jan 2, 2009 005

Tomorrow we head home from our mini vacation. We’ll wait for the snow to slow and pack our belongings and head back to real life. To the calendar {which I’ve vowed not to overfill this year}, laundry, grocery list, the chores. We’ll head back to our flannel sheets, coffee cups that seem made for the grasp of our hands, and the possibility of creative projects and endeavors. Even though it’s only been a few days, home is calling. It always does.

We spend quite a bit of time up  here throughout the year. It’s where our family gathers. Summer beach trips, Christmas extravaganzas, family reunions and get togethers. It’s my inlaws second home {our second home as my father in law likes to tell us}. Fynn calls it Maine’s house. I like that.

This time was the first that we were here without them. And it felt a little lonely, even with the noise from the kids and the neighbors. My mother in law has a way of making this place home. She brings out decorations and special touches that they keep hidden from the renters. I tried, but it wasn’t the same.

Our visit this time was different, but actually quite lovely. Yesterday we had the company of good friends and conversation, babies and laughter, take out and trips to the pool. We opened the doors to make memories of our own here, and the day ended with heavy sighs and the best nights sleep we’ve all had in… months. As the snow fell this morning the kids and I packed up and met up with a new friend and her family, who I already knew was a kindred spirit. We chatted and played, the morning passing quickly. {If anyone is wondering, Jo is wonderful. Warm, sweet, and can make a fabulous latte! It warms my heart to know she’s within driving distance!}

The day continued with the kids refusing to nap, a little movie watching, an early dinner, a trip to the pool for me and my water loving son, and then an early bedtime. All welcomed with open arms. I’m looking around at the quiet condo, Lucas and I sprawled out on the couch watching the Celtics. Sippy cups and snack bowls scattered, toys under the chair and in the lobster trap {sorry Papa… we’ll get them out!}, diapers in the dryer and swim suits hanging in the bathroom. While they’re not pretty or decorative, it’s possible our touches made this little condo a home for the past few days. As we unpack tomorrow, two states away {where else but New England can you drive an hour and pass through two states?}, we’ll hear a faint call from Maine’s house.


Filed under Uncategorized

Here’s to 2010…

The year was 1999.

His hair was blonde. Glasses thick and black rimmed. I believe he was channeling Buddy Holly.

I was set up on a blind date, by a good friend of mine and his girlfriend. We met at his parents house (we were all in college…) and went from there. We ended up at a beach in Wells, Maine. Ringing in a time of uncertainty. For all we knew the world was going to end with the year 2000, and if we were going to be anywhere, it was to be a peaceful spot with crisp salt air. My friend and his girlfriend are now engaged. Me and Buddy Holly? We didn’t click. Not even on a chilled romantic New Years Eve beach setting.

As my mother in law said over Christmas “Thank goodness that didn’t work out!”

Less than a mile away, unbeknown to me, sat my future husband with his family. I kid you not.

Ten years later I sit in the same condo he sat with his family. My family is currently getting tucked into bed. I’m sitting, waiting for my husband to emerge from the kids room so we can have our own quiet, intimate, new years celebration.

This past decade… the thought of it all brings me to tears. There was so much. There was heartache, pain, memories that shall never be brought back to the surface. But there was love. Lots of love. Falling, and diving, and swimming in love. Marriage, and pregnancy, and babies. Friendships dove, and then resurfaced. Bonds of motherhood. Bonds of womanhood. Bonds of marriage. Bonds of family.  This past decade held so much. So much of who I am, and who I strive to be. It’s the decade that I remember most vividly, painfully, joyfully.

As we sit tonight, glasses in hand, views of the beach both of us knew before we knew each other, we remember. And rejoice in the now. And what is meant to be, and has been, and is presently.

Once again, Happy New Year. Here’s to a breathtaking 2010, filled with joy, laughter, and an abundance of hope.


Filed under Uncategorized

What it’s about

This is what it’s all about


grandchildren and grandparents

sharing quiet moments filled with excited eyes and warm hearts

Dec 10, 2009 009

helping to keep traditions alive

one ornament at a time

Dec 10, 2009 010

informal kitchen gatherings

where busy hands make comfort food for the souls

and just to be near one another is enough

Dec 10, 2009 019

lessons given and received

curiosity embraced and encouraged

Dec 10, 2009 023

and being so full of love and cookies

that you barely make it out the driveway before slumber calls

that’s what it’s all about

Dec 10, 2009 006


Filed under Uncategorized

You Capture – Happy story

There was once a little girl who loved Christmas. She would count down the days, begging to be the one to put the ball on the Advent tree made by her mother.

Dec 2, 2009 010

Finally, a system was devised. Based on birthdays. The one w/ the even birthday gets the even days, and vice versa. Luckily, one was born on each.

Dec 2, 2009 012

Starting on Thanksgiving, every day until Christmas the little girl would listen to festive tunes, singing along in delight. Memorizing songs, singing for no one and everyone.

Dec 2, 2009 017

Her middle name actually meant Christmas. She cherished that fact every December. She’d ponder how it was meant to be, her love for the holiday. Staying up late at night making her list and reciting the lines she wrote for Santa, she’d finally drift off and dream of snowflakes and stockings.

Dec 2, 2009 019

On Christmas morning, for years, she thought nothing could possibly be better than Christmas through a child’s eyes.

Dec 2, 2009 022

Until she had her own children, each with eyes filled with hope, wonder, and excitement.

It’s better. Much much better.

Dec 2, 2009 026

December makes this womans girlish heart happy.

This weeks You Capture challenge was to tell a story, using pictures of what makes you happy. Stop by Beth’s site to check out all the participants!



Filed under Uncategorized

You Capture – Still life

Oct 12, 2009 023

Oct 12, 2009 026

Oct 12, 2009 025

Years ago my family lived in a duplex right next to the ocean on the New Hampshire coast. I don’t remember exactly what age I was, but it was right at the point where my brother and I were able to go on adventures by ourself. We’d go for walks down by the ocean, exerting our independence while entering worlds of pretend. We were young, but old enough to be trusted for bits of time outside of our comfort zone.

On one adventure, we found a lobster trap. We saw it as a treasure, and decided that our mother had to have it on our porch. After all, there was one already there, and it would be a perfect match. We hauled the trap down the sidewalk next to the beach road, since it was easier to walk on than the rocks and sand of the surf. Proudly, and awkwardly, we carried our prize.

Until a police man stopped us and told us we were committing a crime by taking what was not ours. He helped us put it back up on the ocean wall, explaining how the fishermen would come back and get his trap. It was not ours.

I cannot tell you how embarrassed we were, and how sad we were, mostly because we lost something that we were so proud to take home to our mother. She would have loved it, and understood exactly why we brought it home. A piece of the ocean turned into still life at home for us to admire, imagine with and turn into a piece of our history. It’s out there still, somewhere. Our treasure. Part of our story.


This weeks You Capture challenge was to show still life. Check out Beth’s site to see more fantastic captures!


Filed under Uncategorized

Tuesday’s gift

Sept 20, 2009 054

As I walked through the field with my children, I knew what I was looking for. We meandered, but I gently nudged us in a certain direction. I was looking for a simple white elegant flower that grows like weeds, but holds her head high with hope. Hope to have her beauty seen. Queen Ann’s Lace.

Seeing even one flower makes me throw my head back, close my eyes and smile at the sun.

The small tender flowers remind me of childhood. Of pressing flowers between books, laminating bookmarks on now yellowed paper, preserving memories of a time when all I had was wonder and hope.

I could look at the flowers every day for an entire season, and I’d still throw my head back. They’re a gift, a simple lovely gift that makes me smile every time. Hope and wonder embodied in an Indian summer’s snowflake.


Please visit Emily at Chatting at the Sky for more Tuesday’s Unwrapped. You’ll find simple moments and simple mysteries unwrapped in every day life. Enjoy!


Filed under Uncategorized