The days we love

The days we love

One thing has become so very evident to me in the past year — we must embrace every moment of the days we love.

Losing a loved one puts so many things into perspective. And sure, there’s nothing earth shattering or life-changing about canoeing. But, there will only be so many warm November days in my lifetime and I intend to embrace every one that I can.

So Husband and I invited my MIL and SIL to an afternoon of canoeing/kayaking/beach walking. I can’t think of a better way to embrace 73* in November.


The pup canoeing

Sunday afternoon

Back Bay

And even better, as we were loading up the boats to head out, a nice fog rolled in. We headed straight for the beach and watched it get thicker and thicker until we could hardly see the waves. There is nothing more magical than fog on the beach.

Fog rolling in on the beach

I hope I never begin to take these days for granted again. I hope that with all the tears of grief, there also remains the hope of life today. Carpe diem!

The pup in the fog

A canoeing pup

A canoeing pup

We did the unthinkable.

We took a hound that is terrified of water and stuck her in a boat. A little boat. A tippy boat.

Rest assured, we came out of the adventure mostly dry, so it wasn’t quite the adventure we had prepared for. (And we had prepared–cell phones and keys were in a water proof container, sinkable items were fastened to the boat, two PFDs on board for us, and the pup had one on. We were ready to tip.)

We ordered Ginger’s life jacket online a few weeks ago after we had planned a canoe outing only to discover that neither pet stores nor outdoor supply stores generally carry dog flotation devises on their shelves. When the life jacket arrived in the mail, I tried it on her just to make sure it would fit.

Ginger in her life vest.

It did, but it also had an amazing calming affect on my dog. As in, she wouldn’t move, not an inch. She stood stock still staring at the ground for a long time… Eventually I took it off of her and just-like-that she was back to her energetic self. Interesting…

We were hoping that calming effect would work again when we loaded her up for the real test. It took a bit of convincing to get her to voluntarily hop into the boat, but after a few tries, we got her in. We settled her just behind me, where she had plenty of room and wouldn’t be in the way.

Taking the puppy canoeing.

The puppy spent most of her time pressed against me, but she ventured off a bit and even attempted to drink the bay water. She sniffed the sea breeze and watched the fish jump out of the water. She calmed down quite well except for when we hit some chop, which made her whimper a bit.

In all, I’d call it a very successful adventure. We’re looking forward to taking her out more and more so she gets used to it. Maybe someday we’ll do a canoe/camping trip and take her along =).

A canoeing pup.

What weekends are for…

What weekends are for…

I was reminded over the past few days what weekends are really for. And a part of me was surprised to discover, yet again, that they’re not for running errands or catching up on life or knocking out that to-do list.

They’re for being. Living. Thriving.

They’re for relationship. Conversation. Laughter.

First thing Saturday morning I headed out to the local blueberry farm where Husband works on weekends. When I arrived it was overcast and in the mid-70s–perfect berry picking weather (did you know there was such a thing?). When my bucket was about half full the sun burned through the clouds and blazed down on me as I worked. Another 20 minutes and my bucket was full of delicious, fresh blueberries.

Fresh picked blueberries.

I’d forgotten to sample some as I picked, so I popped a few in my mouth as I headed back to the front of the farm–perfection, seriously. Fresh blueberries are sweet and tasty, just the way summer should be.

The afternoon consisted of a mix–cleaning the house, folding clean fresh laundry, attending a bridal shower for my soon-to-be-sister-in-law, and running to the mall to use a coupon to get some free goodies for myself (and a new pair of jeans for $10–seriously, I love new jeans…a lot.).

The best part of the day came after the thunder and soaking rain had waned and just before the sun went down. My dear friend R. and I had our monthly “date”…we packed a bag with fresh fruit, cheese, crackers and water bottles along with a picnic blanket and headed for the beach. We walked along the mostly deserted coastline as we talked about the deepest part of ourselves–the pruning, the changing, the evolving.

Beaching it with a friend.

We settled in just before the sun went down for a little picnic dinner and the conversation continued. As dusk began to settle we packed up our things and trekked back up the beach, never a moment of silence as we entered each others’ lives for the briefest of moments on our monthly date. At times, it feels that once a month isn’t nearly often enough, but distance and busyness make getting together difficult.

The beach is lovely and deserted in the evening.

By bedtime, I was thoroughly exhausted, but wonderfully satisfied and content.

Sunday afternoon we invited friends over to make grilled pizza and do nothing more than talk. We enjoyed ice cream with blueberries as their little one played in the grass under the shade trees in the front yard. There’s just something about fellowship and community and makes a Sunday afternoon so sweet.

Homemade grilled pizza.

Husband and I got our hands on a canoe this weekend and took it out in the bay for a paddle just before dusk Sunday evening. The heat had subsided and even the humidity seemed a little less intense as we journeyed out among the old dilapidated docks in Back Bay.

Canoeing with Husband.

Dilapidated docks in Back Bay.

Someday we hope to own one of these lovely little boats…maybe even this one. And someday we dream of living near the bay so we can take in an evening paddle whenever the fancy strikes us.


Sunset from the canoe.

Slowing. Being. Loving. Living. I think that’s what weekends are for.