Tuesday, July 24


maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach(to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,and

milly befriended a stranded star

whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:and

may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it's always ourselves we find in the sea

e.e. cummings


I had to get a blood test last week, and boy oh boy, do I hate needles. I let the nurse know ahead of time (I hate them so much I have a tendency to "swoon"), and he laughed and asked me to tell him about my favorite place in the world while he swiped rubbing alcohol over the crook of my arm.

And I started trying to tell him about Hilton Head.

I wanted to explain the murky brown water and the low-hanging Spanish moss... the stretch of highway that passes over marshes, the way it gets backed up on Saturdays around noon as hundreds of cars heavy with kids and beach towels and coolers make their way slowly toward this lowcountry resort town... the little Greek restaurant with its flaming cheese and lemony potatoes... the gentle, lapping waves that are friendly to babies, except when summer storms roll through and finally give the boogie boarders something to get excited about... 

But instead, I simply said it has a really nice beach. As he started to tap my arm, looking for very reluctant veins, he asked me to elaborate. And just before he pushed the needle in (even writing this is giving me the heebie-jeebies), I told him "It's sandy."

Turns out, I'm not very poetic under pressure.


On Friday morning, we will drop our doggies off with some dear friends and begin making our way south. 

And once we reach that stretch of highway on Saturday, sitting alongside hundreds of other families ready for some salty sea air, we'll forget about time and work and stress and dog hair. 

We'll simply wind our way toward Palmetto Dunes, toward those nice sandy beaches, toward cool water and seafood and afternoon naps.

E.E. Cummings was onto something up above. It's not always necessary to have a great big ocean before us, but on vacations, we really do find ourselves again.


  1. I love that poem. So beautiful. I am off to the sea this weekend, it will be the pups first trip and it is our first anniversary. I just can't wait. There is something magic about the sea, it makes me feel more alive.

  2. i love that description of Hilton Head. You must have it bad if you even love the traffic that leads into the shore... that's true love my dear!!!

    also i hope everything is well and that's just standard, run of the mill, nothing wrong, blood draws. (although even those aren't fun)

    1. Nope, standard blood draw, nothing wrong with me other than the fact that I turn into a quivering mess over a simple needle stick ;)

    2. So good to hear!! and you're not alone in that... when I was nursing, it was usually the people who were all tattooed that hated them the most (go figure, haha).

      Have a blast on vacation!!

  3. e.e. cummings is one of my favorite poets. And yay for some beach time. :)