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foxglovepress Forum-Blogger© Original500© Member  NON-PC!!
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For years I've wanted to move back to a house on the beach. I lived on an Island in the 80"s, and have really been drawn back. After raising three sons and a granddaughter, I'm ready! This Blog will be bits and pieces of a book I'm writing. It's about an older woman living on an Island, on a beach, dealing with memories, and escaping the world as we know it today! I will occasionally bring back the good old days................ I would introduce myself more in this introduction except I will be doing THAT in my story. I hope you take a minute now and then to visit my blog, see how I'm dealing with a rather simple life, and give me some feed back. Someday, I hope to have my book published!
 Justice for Mark.....Imprison Employers Who Hire ILLEGALS! |
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foxglovepress Forum-Blogger© Original500© Member NON-PC!!
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There's nothing like a morning cup of coffee filled with promise of the day. The early sun feels warm as I sit on the porch. I love my little house on the hill overlooking the beach. The shakes could use some new paint. The brown, wood planks on the large rap-a-round porch probably need some kind of protective coating, but it all adds character. I replaced the windows out of necessity the first year. I'm glad the contractors did a wonderful job of keeping with the period. Now they all open in the old lift up style. When opened, the breeze ripples the cream sheers throughout the house like sails catching gusts of wind. I've always enjoyed decorating, and even when my boy's were young, the home had a style. It's sort of evolved from those earth tone days, to the shabby chic today. I guess you might not think of a beach house with lot's of white, creams, and soft pastels. Loose fitting slip covers, pillows and plumply Down comforters covered in Duvets. It however, the perfect beach house. My life is pretty much what I hoped for at this stage. Having been married twice, I rather enjoy the peace of my own space. No one to clean up after, no laundry needing priority, no compromising for a evening of television, and no needing to cook meals when I'm really not hungry. I've raised three sons and a granddaughter. This is a little bit of heaven here on earth. My sons and grandchildren are still a major part of my life, however, they all have family's now and our relationship is that of total pleasure. They are the most important people in my world, and their family's have all moved into that position too.......... Today, my two Shih Tzu's and I are going to take a walk down on the beach. The tide's out which means I just might get enough clams for a good chowder later in the evening. Come on Snuggles, Cocoa, get off you're butts, we're going for a walk................ Last edited on 04:12 am by foxglovepress Justice for Mark.....Imprison Employers Who Hire ILLEGALS! |
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foxglovepress Forum-Blogger© Original500© Member NON-PC!!
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I can tell Spring is just round the corner. Ha ha ha a clam just shot water up when Cocoa walked over. She looks so funny dripping from the tummy. The look on her face is priceless. You'd think she would know to expect the occasional clam spurt by now! The sun's out, but the breeze is still cold. This would be a wonderful day to be sailing. I do miss those days. Nothing like anchoring in a quiet cove for the night, after a full day of sailing. The creaking sounds the boat can make, the occasional rocking when small ripples dance over the water. I was, and am, truly at peace by water. For now, my peace comes from a simple life of clarity, soft surroundings and no schedules to meet. This truly must be the Heaven on earth people talk about. My biggest challenge for today is making sure I have enough clams for a good pot of chowder tonight. And............the little house up the beach! There's a guy who's moved in and being that he's sort of my neighbor, I'm a bit curious. There's been no talk about him in town. Sure hope he's a loner like me. I like neighbors when you can count on one another for help, and you can nod and smile when they pass you by. Other than that, leave me alone. Ups, there's a squirt! Gosh, cut my hand on the shell. It's hard putting your bare hand into the cold, wet, sand with the shovel. I often get cuts from the clam shells before I pull them out. Let's see, that's six now, I think for today it'll due. There's only me to eat the chowder for now anyway. Mark's coming tomorrow and bringing his three boys. Boy do those little grandsons love the beach. I think out of all three of my boys, he's probably the one who most enjoys the beach and salt water. We'll get some drift wood and have a bonfire tomorrow night. It's a neat experience sitting by the water at night with a nice fire to keep you warm. Actually, better get a dozen or more and make a huge pot. We'll all have chowder for dinner tomorrow. Ah, the house smells so fresh. Better get these clams into some water so they can sit and expel the sand. Maybe tonight I'll have a crab Louie for dinner. Come on puppies, we all need to clean off and get warm Sitting on the porch, overlooking the beach while the sun sets, with a glass of my favorite glass of wine. Now there's how to end a day....................
Justice for Mark.....Imprison Employers Who Hire ILLEGALS! |
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foxglovepress Forum-Blogger© Original500© Member NON-PC!!
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My morning coffee in hand and sitting on the porch, I'm going to write about a ferry trip I took to one of the Islands here in Puget Sound. This article was actually published in one of the town's papers................ Ferryboat trips have always been a favorite escape of mine. This trip was no exception. It was May 26, 1995, the sun was out but the wind whipping around my face felt cold and brisk! Winter had been long and hard with it's usual Northwest gloom, and my family suffered personal pain in its grip as well. Unlike the Vashon or Bainbridge trip, this boat was headed for Anderson Island. A small but significant spot in South Puget Sound. Finding a place to sit out of the wind on the back of the boat afforded me warmth, smells of salt air and some time to day-dream about a musty old book I'd picked up in a bookstore called Island In the Sound, by Hazel Heckman. The author drew me into the island life. Her friends became my friends Their hardships and celebrations triggered my sad and happy emotions. I was hoping to see some of the old homesteads she had written about with picket fences covered by old roses. A school house that started with seven children and ended with seven. The old cemetery, peacefully holding it's secrets and honored guests. By the time we had docked, I'd almost relived the entire book and was looking forward to exploring. From the map on page 2, it appeared Bessie's house was the first place on my "must see" list. Hazel's writings of this family were some of my most vivid memories. How Bessie's mother walked in the cold Puget Sound water alone one afternoon seeking help for her small child who had broken a leg. She nursed the baby, wrapped his leg, tied her three year old in his bed, then set out for help. She climbed over shifting logs hampered by her long skirt, carrying her baby so carefully to avoid a compound fracture. She was pregnant at the time and lost her unborn child.
Justice for Mark.....Imprison Employers Who Hire ILLEGALS! |
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foxglovepress Forum-Blogger© Original500© Member NON-PC!!
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A year later, she gave birth to a fourth child Emil, who lived only one month. This baby was the first burial on Anderson Island. He's in the woods by the cemetery because at the time, there was no cemetery. Bessie was born in 1886. As I drove the narrow road through the woods, I noticed a sweet, pungent smell in the air. Wild plum, Laurel, Sweet-After-Death, all helped set a mood of peace within. The hectic pace on the mainland with it's smells of exhaust soon became a distant memory. In its place was a peaceful sound of no sound, interrupted only by an occasional bird. I found Bessie's house on a hill overlooking the Northwest passage of Puget Sound. The place was empty so I walked around front. Sitting on the sloping grass observing the grace of the old place, I pictured the small children through the years running up and down the stairs to the porch, the games played on the lawn and Bessie's mother wading for help with her injured child. I thought of my grandparent's farm in Fife valley, today occupied by wild blackberries. I would love to have that place with all its memories. On my way to the next stoop, I passed the old school house. The original had been built of logs and was no longer. In its place stood a small yellow, wood building, now used for dance classes and other events. The cemetery sits off the main road (if there is a main road on this small island) and back in the woods. Walking through the old grounds, one almost felt as though you need to ask permission. Most of the stone pillars appeared to be very old with few exceptions of its newest members. Normally I might have been a little frightened having
Justice for Mark.....Imprison Employers Who Hire ILLEGALS! |
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foxglovepress Forum-Blogger© Original500© Member NON-PC!!
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been there alone, but you could almost feel the protective eyes of soles long departed. Johnson, Christensen and Baskett, all familiar names from Hazel's book. I thought of Hazel, and how lucky she was to have had such wonderful neighbors. She and her husband, Earle, moved into a house built by William Baskett. It was on Villa Beach Road, overlooking the water. Mr. Baskett was caretaker of the property, living in the chicken coupe at that time. He and his wife Elsie, had planted all the trees in the orchard, the flowers not only around the grounds, but spilling across the road and down over the bank to the beach. He even hand laid a rock fence "to please the missus." Not long after Hazel and her husband moved in, he turned a small bedroom off the kitchen into her work room with the orchard out one window, and the water of Puget Sound out the other. Having explored the old cemetery and forest surrounding, I decided my last stop would be the Baskett house. A quick stop at the island grocery for juice and chips was the only reminder of todays reality. On a small shelf by the checkout, I saw Hazel's book. "I've got that book!" I told the lady behind the counter. "That's why I came to the island today. I love Hazels story." "Did you get her to sign your book?" was her surprising response. "NO..............I have no idea where she is." "Well, you head down the road until you come to Villa Beach Road, take a right, keep going until you see the water. Her place is on the left, you can't miss it." Back in my car, I couldn't believe what I had just heard. I didn't know Hazel was still alive, now I was simply to drive up and say HI? Was it really going to be that simple to see in person an author of a book I'd read? Minutes later, I was pulling into the driveway. The wonderful rock fence gave it away. The house was white with black shutters on the windows sides. There was a covered porch across the front where her small office looked out. A large wicker settee for leisurely watching the comings and goings of the ferry, sat against the house. A small wire gate with a sign reading "People welcome, geese keep out" sat on the entrance to a wood deck/porch on the left side of the house. I knocked on the door, not really knowing what to expect. "Come in," said a small voice from inside. There she sat on her couch with a warm smile on her face. Her ninty one years had been kind, for she was absolutely darling! Short hair, small petite frame, and a sharp mind. I noticed a splint on her right wrist. She had broken it a few days earlier. Hazel was at times hard of hearing, however she was very capable of interesting and humorous conversation. I rambled on and on about her book (learning she'd written three) and how much I loved it. She answered questions and spoke of the island as though I too, had lived there. Then she offered to sign my book, explaining it would be the first one she would sign with a broken wrist. Her writing was shaky and though she apologized, I cherish every word.
Justice for Mark.....Imprison Employers Who Hire ILLEGALS! |
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foxglovepress Forum-Blogger© Original500© Member NON-PC!!
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We went to the kitchen for tea. She set a small table in front of two old, very tall windows, and moved about the odd shaped kitchen as though she might be in her twenties. I spotted the pleasant little work room Earle had made for her off the kitchen. It housed a large desk with her electric typewriter, books and papers. Along one wall was a small, wood built-in bed frame with a mattress. Probably left from the original bedroom. What a wonderful place to have had tea and rolls. I will always cherish my dearest new friend, Hazel Heckman. She has since become a special person in my life. I have and will continue to see her ofter...................... *** The air is crisp as fall is soon here. Pondering my day will have to continue inside by a small cozy fire. On one of my visits to the island with Hazel, she drove me to her favorite friends homes, for short visits through out the day. Her driving was terrifying to say the least. I learned from the island police later, that everyone on the island knew her car, and gave plenty of room as she chugged around the island down the "middle" of the road! On one visit, she gave me another of her books, along with more tea and cookies. Hazel has since died, and I'm sure is resting in the little old island cemetery in the woods. I'll go visit again one day, and bring her an island wild flower...............
Justice for Mark.....Imprison Employers Who Hire ILLEGALS! |
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