Today  really starts where yesterday left me wondering if people who live in always-sunny places can ever truly appreciate the sunshine.  with a middle girl sick on the sofa for two straight holy-high 104.3 feverish days of wind and rain, I drove out to the beach with a mocha, parked close enough to see the waves break, turned the tunes up loud enough to not hear the rain drops explode and prayed for sunshine.  I’m the girl who believes an evergreen tree looks best in fog.  I’m the girl who likes a late night walk in drizzle to the movie theatre when a zombie flick comes to town, and I love the feeling of a fast run out of an unexpected pouring rain.  but.  but.  sometimes the grey gets to me. and I was oh so thankful sunday, shades pulled open at the too-early hour of our three year old to reveal a bright blue, cotton ball cloud sky.  at the beach, we were one of five cars.  I couldn’t believe it, expecting the entire island to be rolling in the sunshine, turning cheeks to the wind.  and, as it happens on a tiny island, we shuffled into friends on the rock-covered shore.  we talked kite surfing, watched as they lifted, sailed south.  it’s mesmorizing to watch kite boarders.  I can barely fly a kite, stand on a paddleboard or jump high into the air, so I can’t imagine doing all three at once.  oh, add 49 degree water.  nuts.  awesome.

The beaches of where we live are the best playgrounds

with endless trees, cedar splitered bits to balance on, crawl over, forts to build, forts to explore lichen-covered, sea salt splatterd rocks to climb up

at top, a view of Victoria, B.C, The Olympic Mountains, Mt. Baker

oh, today opened in ways I needed it to

all three little ladies feeling fine, Luke taking the girlies on a long beach bike ride

so I could climb into this:

indeed, I almost didn’t continue

the noise of wind through grass, wave break below

heat on my cheeks

until I pictured cloud balloons, ran to another cove,

traveled over cliffs, tide pools

kept sight on the south point lighthouse

all before running home

a quick game of flying super-hero baby doll doctor (choice of our three year old)

I spy and hey, mama, want to come to my restaurant

before writing, finishing the birth story project,

beginning another piece

lawnmower choaking out the window,

trampoline giggles,

Luke making magic in the kitchen,

then bedtime bubble baths.

hey, today.  let’s do it again tomorrow.

coming soon  One month ago I woke after the fourth most amazing thirty-nine and a half hour period of my life.  I had attended my dear friend’s birth of her third child in a room filled with love and the best sorts of people.  I swear, my heart blew up.  And then that adorable diaper cover I knit went and fit her just perfectly..

My super talented photography friend Sara Parsons took these amazing pictures of the sweet family in their last weeks of pregnancy.  Sara and I work together quite a bit and she’s taught me so much about photography and telling a story in a photograph.  This past summer, on a drive over the Tacoma Narrows Bridge we decided to partner on a birth project.  And so, soon and here and on sweet Sara Parson Photography’s site, we’ll reveal the words and images of the most powerful experience I’ve had since the birth of our third daughter.

I’ll leave you with this silly picture of me, looking (weary and tear-stained and excited and exhausted and) silly found on my iphone that proves in the spaces between contractions we really did have a wonderful time..

and, oh yeah, you really must know there’s ONE ticket left to Write: A Doe Bay Workshop

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