Gary is filling the gap in his woodpile he so carefully straightened and vacuumed. He used to object if I called our cords of firewood “his” but no more. He has never allowed anyone to help him cut, clean, stack, or rearrange that pile. Photos follow.






The largest glass we have found has been complete glass floats of a few inches to nearly a foot in diameter. There were many in the house I inherited and Gary found more. The last one was found by me, what’s called a rolling pin. All were pale green. Purple glass has been found on our beach, but not by either of us. A neighbor sneaked off with at least one float and we gave one away. I had one in my bedroom growing up. The actual seaglass above is mostly from broken bottles in shades of colorless, blues, aquas, greens, and browns. We have found other colors—pale pink and yellow—only rarely.


last year at the Astoria Scandinavian festival , I noticed some of the people there who I knew had troll blood pulsing through their veins–as I look at this photo of me next to the wood pile I can’t help being suspicious that I too have troll blood pulsing through my veins which accounts for a whole lotta things that we will talk about at a later time–happy mothers day–gary–b.s. I guess I’m finnish with the wood pile for this year–kiitos
LikeLiked by 2 people
Lovely!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Gorgeous photos and stones and wood!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLike
Has sea glass made it into Daughters?
LikeLiked by 1 person
No, sadly not, and I thank you for asking. The Daughters collect rings to wear strung on chains and cords about their waists (their fingers are too slender), and that detail is not even in the book.
Many things from my life have found space in the book, including conversations and food and foraging, the muzzles of horses and moo-cows, grief and mothering, birthing and fear. My interests are broad and I researched what I didn’t know. The Mothers are various and from different backgrounds. At least one is deeply religious, but others are believers in one faith or another. My respect for religion goes way back to my childhood. They come from various professions and wildly dissimilar landscapes. All of this has been fascinating to me. I have enjoyed “playing with my imaginary friends” as a novelist teaching in my MFA program used to say.
LikeLike