Allyn

There is a new struggle brewing to expand into the community and, at the same time, be very picky with who comes in. I think it has to do with a desire to help others but the wisdom knowing mean people are just not worth my time. Is it a growing up kind of thing, maybe past hurts have taught us to be careful with our hearts, but continue to love as much as possible? It is a great thing to meet new people, but also special to keep it small and personal. I want to get in deep with my town but have only a couple plates at the dinner table. Give myself to others but show everything to a select few. 

This side of the water is very different. Especially this side of this side of the water. Neighbors can be acres apart. We live on an island that is inhabited by Seattleites who visit every other weekend starting in June. I know the dogs name next door but can't remember the women's who is always calling for him. 

And god can people be weird here. There is an underlying weirdness to every Washingtonian (my favorite traveling game is "from Seattle"--identifying that traveller who definitely lives here). But weird is a whole new level in this county. Like "get off my land!" and don't try to learn my name kind of weird. There are pockets of civilization and hope for community, but no strong push. 

We want to live here, in this house if we can, for a real long time. Long enough to build fences and grow perennials. Maybe even plant trees. So we think a lot about how we can get involved and improve our community. How can I help? Who will be important to me? 

But we also know that we value our little life. Our select few who have stuck around. Maybe it's not just growing up, it's adapting to our environment too. 

Say Thank You

I spent the weekend in Seattle which is enough for a whole other post. It was my first weekend away with just a friend, and I promise I will share the details of our culinary adventure soon (lots of TD!). But the best part was the exploring. New food, new streets, new gadgets, new smells, it was all part of the experience. 

There was this one restaurant we kept going back to. Bubbly drinks, fantastic courses, silver chandeliers and mirrors above our heads, chefs working hard in front of us. At the end of the meal, they leave a book with the check. You are meant to draw a picture or sign your gratitude.  Almost like a prayer of thanks after you finish your food. What a concept. 

How often do we thank? How many opportunities go by to express how great something was? To a friend, family member, teacher, barista, chef--who do we compliment and in turn share a bit of ourselves to? 

A good restaurant has to do with the food and its people.  Something will taste good, yes, but if it's served with enthusiasm or by a cute bartender with a wicked mustache, god is it better. 

I spent the weekend eating but I was thankful along the way. I ate and talked and shared. To my friend, the waiter, my city, myself. 

Busy Busy

Life is so busy now and naturally important things get neglected.  Like taking photos, walking dogs, skipping stones over the inlet, and that whole stopping and smelling the roses thing. 

The nice thing is that time is passing by extremely fast.  Before I fully realize that it is February, it will nearly be March.  And soon, it will be August and I will have time for all of the above. 


More work produces more efficient time, so every minute left is filled with something else that has to get done.  Today, I have hours of work in front of the computer to do, and I will reward myself by ordering seeds from a catalog after.  Enjoyable yes, but not exactly playing hookie and seeing a movie or taking a luxurious nap. 


However, gardens need to be planned because Life will resume someday.  Yes, it's busy now, but I'm not one to believe that everything will be waiting for me when I'm done.  Instead, plant a few seeds now, watch it grow, don't worry too much about critters munching on leaves, and realize next year's fruit will be more abundant.  Balance with today's priorities taking up most of the room.  It's not perfect, but its enough for now. 


Last weekend we were in Ocean Shores and I had this grand, empowering feeling that I would share the town's quirkiness and saltiness on this blog. I would write about how grateful I am to see the ocean, the inlets, the rivers, every body of water.  How much I loved life, my husband, our friends, our dogs, and every opportunity.   I walked the beach, taking my shoes off and treating my toes to January ocean water.  A pirate's convention was in town and they were out in full force.  The really touristy stores were closed, but fake shells could still be purchased along with a hoodie in some corners of town. 

But then we got into a huge fight and didn't talk to each other from Saturday night until Sunday afternoon.  That's how life is.  A series of checks and balances meant to inspire and humble all at once.  January in Ocean Shores is remarkable and we haven't been away since Florida. We are so busy right now that we're too busy to fight.  So, that's what this trip was meant for.  That's okay. I'm sure we'll go back next year and the ocean will be a little bit clearer. 


This place is a priority for me. As the year loosens up, it will be one of the biggest priorities.  In the meantime, I'm going to punch out a little bit here and there every time I'm walking on a beach or hear a song that makes me want to dance.   It won't be a extravagant garden this year, but it will nourish me, no matter how good it tastes.