We walked past a yarn shop yesterday, and I bought a skein and needles for an impromptu return-to-knitting project. I haven’t worked a row since January or February, right before the NCLEX and as we were finishing up plans for our move to Portland. I have enough projects going at home, of course, but I’m not sure I would even know where to find them. And the point is, I’m here. Now. Ready to keep my hands busy and let my mind wander.
I haven’t had that experience in months, I’d say.
We’re at the beach. Yesterday we had sun and wind, so we bought ourselves a 2-line kite and walked out onto the beach. My amphibious shoes, though great on the muddy shore of a Minnesota lake, were a disaster in the sand. I soon tore them off my feet and just watched my step. The kite came off the ground, lines strapped to Jesse’s hands like ski poles, and I walked down beyond the reach of the line to sit in the warm sand.
I watched as he tested the kite, the wind. Within minutes, he had the kite spinning, diving towards the ground and then jerking back high into the air just before slicing the sand. He hovered the kite above my head, inches from my face.
Today, we had rain and high tide. We attempted a fishing expedition, and though we did manage to get our lines in the waters of Klootchy Creek (NOT KIDDING) we didn’t pull anything other than our jigs back out of them. We did, however, traipse through true-ass forest.
Were there unicorns? Probably, though we didn’t see any. This is the kind of forest with lots of places for them to hide. We did, however, encounter the largest slug either of us had ever seen. Jesse squealed, “I’ve never HEARD of a slug that big!”
Seriously. Imagine that guy all stretched out. We’re talking 8 inches, at least.
Huge. Now THAT is an aptly-named banana slug.
Slugs aside, we didn’t see any critters–they must have been snuggled up somewhere safe and dry. After a couple hours of traipsing and with soaked hiking boots (GoreTex boots can only keep your feet warm and dry if you don’t step shin-deep into the stream as you cross it… in that case, GoreTex keeps your feet warm and wet), we emerged from the park to return to our little honeymoon suite on the beach. Safe and warm, indeed.
I’ve been here before–literally, to this physical location, and figuratively, to this state of relaxation–but it’s different. There’s a peace and calm that’s punctuated every so often with a “What do you think about Norwich terriers?” or “Zinfandel or Pinot Noir?” or “Doesn’t anybody still make an SPF 15?” Musings, small decisions between choices with which one cannot go wrong, little rhetoricals that neither of us feel pressure to answer. Honeymoon. I’m going to stay in this place as long as I can.