Yes, it’s treasure!

I pick this stuff up. Seriously, I stop, bend over, examine every piece and then determine if it’s worthy enough to take valuable space in my pocket. It could be a piece of old sea-worn pottery. It could be a perfect piece of knotty driftwood with just the perfect purpose in mind. My pockets usually end up having seashells and sea glass in it as well. What do I do with it? Well. I take it home, I sort them out, I make the final cuts and then place the pieces in the appropriate bins in my garage. My reject pile is then thrown in the forest at the back of our house.

My beach treasure collection is ever growing and ever evolving. I started out pocketing green, peach, black only, white only, and marbleized rocks two years ago. I put handfuls of them in glass jars (always sorted according to color…always). They were pretty. Looking at them now, they remind of how far we’ve (I’ve) come in terms of enjoying the New England coast. Then I started seeing all sorts of beautiful pastel colored sea glass on the beach. Of course I began to stuff those in my pockets as well. Driftwood was a late comer, but that doesn’t mean I have the least of that. Just because of driftwood’s size, it looks like I have the most of that stuff.

But what really is treasure? How could one person say that these little pieces of found sea worn junk is not treasure, but just trash. Finn finds “treasures” all the time. Look at how proudly she carries her treasure. She struts it over to me to have a look. I always approve. I always am very excited for her when she finds something worthy of burying. I am always happy she explores the coast with me. Yes, most of her finds end up in her mouth and sometimes in her stomach. Not for me to say what one can do with their treasure. As two beachcombers, we can appreciate each others finds. Her finds usually don’t make it home.

There is no telling what you can find on the beach. And right at the perfect moment, there it is…a red heart. A little faded, a little beat up, not even sure what it’s function was in its heyday, but perfect in every way. Did it make it home? Nope, this was too perfect to take. I want someone else to happen upon this as I did. Wouldn’t that be perfect if it was on February 14th!?

I’m a boat builder!

I decided to start using the driftwood I have been collecting for two 1/2 years and make stuff. Now that I have my drill press these boats are a cinch.

I decorated it up using coastal inspired stencils and stenciled numbers on them defining what date the lucky recipient’s birthday is. I also ordered off of Etsy, these tiny anchor and life ring charms (10 for $2.00) to kick it up a notch.These are birthday presents for three of my friends at work. Hope they like them. I must get to the fabric store and get more grommets and striped fabric. Next on the list of things to make from driftwood: fish and/or whale mobiles.

War is alive and well. Merry Christmas.

4:15am this Christmas morning; Erin calls us. Our first contact with Erin outside of a quick email last week. She’s in Afghanistan and doing well. Just sitting on the flight line watching the planes take off. Her turn is tomorrow, she said. Going up for the first time in the mountains near Bagram. Should be a “non-event”. No other news. The Crocs she brought are a god-send. Thank God she heard about bringing them before she got there because everyone wears them when walking down the rocky street to go to the bathroom. She lives in Hut #4 made of plywood, some nails, and a little bit of duct tape for good measure. It gets beastly cold out at night, thank God the inhabitant of this hut before her left some blankets. It’s pretty much just a normal Sunday for all of them except for a quick passing out of Santa hats to everyone at roll call. Long gone are the days of the Bob Hope specials where everyone was treated to a real Christmas special.

Her goodbye was hard. Saying goodbye to your big sister 10 days before Christmas was a test in strength for Moe. Erin said don’t worry, the Air Force has trained them well and she is prepared for anything. She didn’t want tears. She is doing exactly what she wanted to do…deploy early in her career while there still was a war. Imagine that, a 24 year old girl just shy of 5’4” wanting to do this thing. She was up for the adventure. Up for the challenge. Up for the hardship. I wonder if people realize who really is out there on the front lines. Girls such as my daughter.

Erin was educated with a BS in Aeronautical Engineering at the Air Force Academy (Class of ‘09), had her Survival, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape (SERE) training in the deep woods of Washington State, had her Undergraduate Pilot Training at Vance AFB, advanced training at Beale AFB in California, now Afghanistan for the BIG test. Not everyone, she says, gets the opportunity to prove what stuff their made of. She thinks she is lucky to do this before the war ends…while there still is a war. Good luck, my little one, this Christmas Day, I love you! I hope these wing halves will never be reunited as long as I’m alive.