After a quick stop at school this morning, Mr. B&B and I are off to Cape Cod for a short respite. I love the Cape always, but there is something hauntingly magical about it in the "off season". We'll be strolling the beach, visiting the Parnassus Book Service, and perusing antique stores including this one. We will be eating incredible vegan breakfasts prepared by Ann and David at The Shady Hollow Inn. Just thinking about it releases endorphins!
Speaking of hauntingly magical, check out Jake Snider's song "To the Ocean" on YouTube. His website is here. His bio is here. MP3's, streaming MP3's and YouTube links here.
Hope you have a wonderful Valentine's Weekend where ever you may be, whatever your plans, no matter your relationship status.
See you Monday with pictures and a weekend recap!
Showing posts with label Valentine's Day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Valentine's Day. Show all posts
Friday, February 13, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Longing for the Shore
Maybe what I am really longing for is summer. It was super sunny today which took the edge off the chill. I am not fooled. I know snow is on the way again this week.
Summer is a little more than five months away, but the shore is less than an hour from me. I count myself lucky. Mr. B&B and I are going to Cape Cod for Valentine's Weekend which I am so looking forward to!
In the name of longing for the shore, a poem I wrote in December:
Adrift
He wears the wind and the waves.
Sacrificing boat shoes to sunken ships is easy.
Released, weightless flesh turns spongy and swims in pools of infinite possibility.
The confines and contradictions of the land slumber in his hull.
That ship has sailed. What remains lay netted in seaweed sweaters.
Summer is a little more than five months away, but the shore is less than an hour from me. I count myself lucky. Mr. B&B and I are going to Cape Cod for Valentine's Weekend which I am so looking forward to!
In the name of longing for the shore, a poem I wrote in December:
Adrift
He wears the wind and the waves.
Sacrificing boat shoes to sunken ships is easy.
Released, weightless flesh turns spongy and swims in pools of infinite possibility.
The confines and contradictions of the land slumber in his hull.
That ship has sailed. What remains lay netted in seaweed sweaters.
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