ON BEAUTY, BOUNTY AND LOVING THE BELOVED

I’m a bloom where you’re planted kind of person. I like predictable pleasures like bare feet in the grass, tree climbing and strolling in the rain. I love curling up for hours with a book and a glass of wine to re-experience a favourite story like it’s the first time. I like attics, treasure chests and secret passage ways where precious things are hidden and kept. I like things that never go out of style – old friends, old movies, old music – things tried, tested and true. If it has the words steady, secure or stable in it, I am in love with it. If it says like a rock, I am taking it home.

I have a good husband who pushes me far, far out of my comfort zone on a regular basis. He forces me away from the fireside and onto the dance floor. He is an eagle – he knows what wings were made for. He does not really have a favourite anything – his favourite is whatever is colourful, new and untried. He cannot drive the same path to work more than once in a week - he is fearlessly drawn to new things, new experiences, new perspectives. The fact that he has loved one woman fully and faithfully for nearly two decades is no small thing – it’s part of why I suspect I might have multiple personalities. Not really. Maybe. Mostly it’s because his heart is steady, secure and stable, and when he sets his mind to something he is like a rock.

In this way we are the same – we don’t like to wade and we don’t dabble. When we’re in, we’re body and soul in. All or nothing. Go big or go home. I’m a big dreamer – he’s a big dream-maker. It's a perfect fit.

This summer he surprised us with a spontaneous trip to a new place I’ve never been but have always wanted to go – my oldest and favourite I want to go there dream, Nova Scotia. It’s a place packed with charm and hidden treasures – exactly like walking through a wardrobe that opens into Narnia. If I had been born there I would never leave, but my blood runs thick with prairie.

Oceanside pool puddles.

                                                   

Frogs. Not great for kissing. Just sayin'.

 

Getting sunburned at Peggy's Cove.

 

Gifts from the sea.

                                              

Ginormous rose hips.

Two words. Lobster Suppers.

Wisdom.

Falling in love with this guy, all over again.

Oh yes, my kind of place.

Johnny Depp is in there, sitting on his dubloons.

 

Red sand at low tide.

Found this little fella tucked inside a mussel at dinner.

Finding a shoe in the woods. Just one. Weird.

On the Ferry to PEI. There's mermaids in that thar water.
                                                

This Lunenburg gem, my favourite Pub ever, 

where we met this charmer, who basically wrote the theme song to the last few months of my life:

 

I’m always a sucker for a soulful guitar man, but Ryan Cook just also happens to be a genuinely nice guy and whole lot of fun on a Thursday night. His latest album, Wrestling With Demons, comes out this month and if he tours through your town, you should definitely check him out.

And just a little reminder of how staggeringly beautiful and how unbelievably full of hidden treasures this world can be if you have the time, patience and inclination to look for them:

Believe it.