The day after Christmas I went to the beach with both of my sons and Soldier’s whole family. It was not picnic weather, but neither was it windy or raining, so we spread a cloth on the sand and ate the picnic we’d brought. That was after football games, and shell collecting, and losing a wiffle ball in the extreme piles of driftwood (I found it!)
Soon after we ate, the temperature did begin to drop, so we headed home.
Later in the week I gathered from all over the house and garage my entire shell and rock (not including garden stones) and sea glass collection and laid it out on a big bed, for the Colorado grandchildren to glean from and take back for their own boxes of treasures. I didn’t realize how many of these smaller groupings in plates and bowls there were until I got the idea of passing on some of my Special Things.
We talked about the distinctive features of this or that tiny stone or bit of sea glass, and Brodie tried hard to hear the ocean in a mini version of a conch shell; a little sand dollar was wrapped in tissue so that it wouldn’t get damaged by rocks. Each of the children filled a ziplock snack bag with their chosen favorites, and when they were done I was able to pack all of my remaining things into a small box.
This kind of downsizing is extremely satisfying, and great fun for everyone!
This year is extra full for me, during the festal season, because a LOT of family are coming to my house, a bunch of them for nine blessed nights, from all over the country and from outside the country. They are expected to arrive a few days before Christmas, which is very soon, and I still have much preparation to do. Twelve or fifteen extra people will sleep under my roof; it will be a Christmas slumber party! And a few more will be with us for celebratory cooking and eating.
I’ve been grocery shopping (repeatedly) in six different stores, and clearing out “work” rooms for sleeping, and wrapping presents and …. well, you know. But I haven’t baked one cookie, in spite of looking daily at the soft butter sitting on the counter, waiting. If I hadn’t finally dusted the living room blinds this morning I wouldn’t be calm enough to sit down here for a few minutes.
But — I’m so grateful that there is a Prefeast Vespers service this evening for me to attend, to help me focus, and where I can pray with verses such as these:
O ye people, let us celebrate the forefeast of the nativity of Christ, and elevating our mind to Bethlehem, let us soar aloft in thought and behold the great mystery in the cave; for Eden was opened when God issued forth from the pure Virgin, being perfect in both divinity and manhood. Wherefore, let us cry aloud: O holy God, Thou unoriginate Father! O Holy and Mighty One, Thou Son Who becamest incarnate! O holy Immortal One, Thou comforting Spirit! O Holy Trinity, glory be to Thee!
Last Christmas my daughter Pearl gave me these journals with hardback covers featuring photographs I’d taken and used on my blog. I’m sure she carefully chose from among the hundreds of possibilities, and settled on these exemplary and evocative representatives, of Grandchildren and Fruits From the Garden.
The larger one I’ve been using as a regular journal, and the smaller one as a sort of hospitality journal, to keep track of guests and events, menus and food preferences. I try to write down how various dishes I served were received, and for whom I cooked them, so that I don’t repeat too often.
That makes it sound like I cook for people a lot; I really don’t, but for that reason I tend to fall back on the same dishes, not being in the habit anymore of spending hours planning and executing menus featuring new items. But even if I’m only having a friend over for coffee, I want to remember beforehand if it is coffee, or rather tea she will like to drink.
Jean Edouard Vuillard – In the Garden
Last week a friend and I sat on the patio and drank cold tea from jugs I had made beforehand. They were actually infusions, to be precise; her late husband, a connoisseur of true tea, made with leaves of the tea plant, would have wanted us to use the right word. The options at hand were ginger, rooibos and chicory. And I served a version of the old favorite Wacky Cake, that contains no eggs or dairy, and typically does include cocoa, vinegar, and oil. I was amazed at how many reviewers had altered the original recipe to jazz it up. I took the advice of several cooks and added salt, almond extract, almond flour, and a swirl of almond butter baked in. It was pretty tasty! We each had two pieces with our infusions. I still need to write in my Hospitality Journal that C. likes ginger tea, and Wacky Cake.
Daughter “Pippin” and her children were with me for a few happy days. The weather was not forecast to be friendly to our desire to be out of doors the way we like, but it cooperated in the end by bringing rain mostly while we slept, and we managed to go exploring all four days. It would take another full day of blogpost-crafting to tell you about everything that blessed my soul, but I want to share about two surprises we encountered.
At Point Reyes National Seashore, we made a wrong turn and ended up on Drakes Beach, where we thought we might as well get out for a minute and look, before we turned around to go to nearby Chimney Rock. The beach was mostly closed, because elephant seals were currently “pupping” there; several park staff were milling about near the temporary fence to tell us all about the animals. As of the 1st of March, this article says there were 870 weanlings on the Point Reyes beaches.
We watched this big guy above (4,000 to 5,000 pounds, they say) throwing sand onto his back to cool off, and wiggling his whole body down a little farther into his damp bed. It’s curious to watch oneself watching heavy animals doing mostly nothing; I think one reason we don’t get tired of staring is the principle of unpredictable rewards. They lie still for who knows how long — do I get vicarious enjoyment from just watching a seal seemingly sleeping like a log? — and it is rewarding to still be watching when suddenly they lumber across the beach a few feet, or merely lift their heads to check out how close the visitors are getting.
At one point a docent opened the fence and escorted us out on to the beach to get closer to the seals, while keeping at a safe distance. The gigantic males can move pretty quickly if they want, and we watched from afar as a couple of them challenged and threatened each other over territorial rights.
The day before our visit, the last female had left the beach after being impregnated, and it was expected that the males and pups would soon leave, too. In the meantime, they were resting, the pups living off their mothers’ milk of which they would get no more. They’d have to get out into the ocean pretty soon, and learn to find real food, not just whatever trash washed up on the beach. A volunteer was collecting trash even while we leaned against the fence, getting sunburned.
We didn’t go to Chimney Rock after that, but to visit the Point Reyes Lighthouse, where we walked down the 300+ steps and hiked back up again, after eating our picnic lunch beside the path.
Out there we looked at Leathery Polypody, Polypodium scouleri; and Orange Rock Hair, Trentepholia aurea.
The second surprise was the following day, when the ocean tides also were not as convenient as we might have hoped; the moderately low tide would not happen until about 7:00 p.m., and we went out to the coast again, hoping to find some tidepools to explore. At least, Daylight Savings Time was just recently in effect, so we would have sunlight.
What a wonder! After we’d hiked down the path, we realized that the dark ripples on the beach that we’d seen from above were fields of stranded Velella velella, or By-the-wind Sailors. Once upon a time I found one of these creatures on a beach, and it was very small. We never dreamed we’d see them like this, here on our North Coast beaches that are not typically so colorful.
They are described online thus: “This hydroid polyp remains afloat on the suface of the Pacific Ocean for most of its life. It never touches or even comes close to the ocean bottom, and the only stage in its life when it is completely submerged under water is the larval stage. The Velella velella begins its life in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, is brought by the wind to the shores, and is usually cast up on a beach where it dies and disentegrates.” source
Sailor with its sail up.
We had to wait around for a while for the tide to go out as far as it would, but what few tidepools we saw were mostly full of sailors.
Ivy and Jamie spent a lot of time collecting pebbles and pieces of shell, and sometimes running in the surf, which throughout the year ranges from 50-55 degrees in temperature.
When we returned home they left their treasures on the front walk, and in the morning sorted them carefully, asking me to choose some to keep. As they were packing up to leave for home, Jamie arranged mine where they will be a daily reminder of our beloved beach outings.
exploring all four days. It would take another full day of blogpost-crafting to tell you about everything that blessed my soul, but I want to share about two surprises we encountered.
Gladsome Lights 