It’s well into spring and feels like early winter here. The ocean is rough and wild and loud. I find it comforting and invigorating. It worked out well for us on spring break. Most of the vacationers never showed up. We live right on the beach which means that our peaceful isolated life is transformed by weekenders and vacationers in the warm season. We have the place to ourselves the rest of the year and when it storms.
It seems to me that most people only love nature when she isn’t showing too much character. That’s when I love her best. On one of our walks against the wind, we saw the seals again. When the beach is empty and the sea is rough, they swim over from the rocky point and play in the surf. The wild ducks like to body surf. I saw a flock of young males playing that game in the smaller swells.
Chris and I have been building a garden from scratch. Besides working on art in the studio and watching animals surf, that’s how we spent most of our time for the past few weeks. Little Nemo is not happy about it at all. He does not understand why we are outside and he’s not. Poor little guy. The future garden is still just an empty lot so it’s a lot of work to get it started. It’s still painful when I think about the lush wild garden at the old place but there is something to be said for starting fresh. The best thing about starting over is that we are planning and building this garden together.




Bookbinding tape is ridiculously expensive. I know it’s archival but it is just tape. I am tempted to improvise with some wood glue and a roll of black ribbon. The good news is that I have my hands on an entire lot of early readers, spellers, and primers from the turn of the century that were really dirt cheap. It seems like there is an abundance of them in Pennsylvania. One of these days, I’ll have to go there with a truck.
This little treasure was abandoned on a dusty shelf in a thrift shop among cheap paperbacks and magazines. There was a comical sticky note on the cover which is worn and weathered red leather. The note said “belonging to an old person who liked to cook” and the price on it was 25 cents. The pages are wonderfully browned the color of coffee with cream and stuffed with old recipes in a scrapbook style, held together with a rubber band. There are mementos and clipped advertisements pressed between the pages which reveal that it was maintained sometime between the turn of the century and 1920. There is also a detached section inside made from an Excelsior exercise book dated 1901. The edges were once gilded in gold. 


