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Far across the broad Atlantic where the storms do rage severe
At the end of a difficult month, after a morning that started with the unbeatable back-to-back combination of MRI and dentist's appointment, ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
derspatchel took me to Georges Island for the sea. I brought Doppel-Abbie. He brought Garak (on vacation). There are photographs of both, but I'll have to wait until Rob sends the Picasa link over to post them. We wandered around Fort Warren in the warm afternoon, brick barrel-vaulting and stairs spiraling down into granite, old artillery sites half-filled with rain like abandoned quarries; we stayed away from the nests of barn swallows, including the one with three fledged chicks loudly squeaking and the one we knew had to exist because the mother dive-bombed me out of a darkened doorway; and we sat for an hour on the seawall to the southeast of the island and watched the tide come in, over broken granite blocks and seaweed that lifted and stirred in the glass-swirl, the deep sun-dusted bottle-green of the sea. The air smelled of salt and summer grass, haying. Huge clouds stacked up like a blue-filtered photograph everywhere we turned in the sky. The ferry guide told the same ghost story both ways. We had dinner at Durgin-Park afterward, home of the best molasses Indian pudding.
At least July ended well. We worked for it.
derspatchel took me to Georges Island for the sea. I brought Doppel-Abbie. He brought Garak (on vacation). There are photographs of both, but I'll have to wait until Rob sends the Picasa link over to post them. We wandered around Fort Warren in the warm afternoon, brick barrel-vaulting and stairs spiraling down into granite, old artillery sites half-filled with rain like abandoned quarries; we stayed away from the nests of barn swallows, including the one with three fledged chicks loudly squeaking and the one we knew had to exist because the mother dive-bombed me out of a darkened doorway; and we sat for an hour on the seawall to the southeast of the island and watched the tide come in, over broken granite blocks and seaweed that lifted and stirred in the glass-swirl, the deep sun-dusted bottle-green of the sea. The air smelled of salt and summer grass, haying. Huge clouds stacked up like a blue-filtered photograph everywhere we turned in the sky. The ferry guide told the same ghost story both ways. We had dinner at Durgin-Park afterward, home of the best molasses Indian pudding.At least July ended well. We worked for it.
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I'm very glad for this.
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Nine
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What was the ghost story?
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It was very good for me. I barely listened to the guide on the ferry back: just watched the water and the light and the wind. There was a bell buoy just offshore as we sat on the seawall, swaying and calling. We have a month of summer left: the question is just which sea to visit next.
And Doppel-Abbie looks utterly content on your straw hat.
He had previously enjoyed a view to the west. While Rob was photographing, I enjoyed this tree.
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Thank you. I have to say I wasn't expecting it to.
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I've made Indian pudding, but I don't have Durgin-Park's recipe. It is very cornmeal-sweet and molasses-dark; they serve it warm with ice cream. I'd probably just pour cream on the top, but I'm not complaining.
What was the ghost story?
A woman who came from Georgia to Massachusetts dressed as a man to break her husband out of jail at Fort Warren during the Civil War: the escape was discovered and in the ensuing firefight, she killed her husband instead of the commanding officer she had aimed for. Her last request was to be hanged in women's clothes, but as there were none to be found at the fort, she was given some black garment, a cloak, a robe; it is in this habit her ghost is supposed to appear. There was more to the story, and maybe
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Thank you. It was a good change.
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Thank you. Photo credit to
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It was really the necessary thing to do. I slept badly last night, I'm in a lot of pain, none of the stresses have gone away; I still wouldn't trade the day. Except for the bit with the MRI and the dentist's appointment. That was unnecessary.
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Prrt.
May August be better.
Rabbit, rabbit. Thank you. We're hoping.
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Thank you. He can also be seen at dinner later that night.
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Thank you. I hope so. 2012 was unexpectedly strong.
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May you visit many seas together.
Nine
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I like that blessing.