Shells, shells, and more shells. I was just a tad obsessed with collecting these beauties on my morning walks. Maybe a little more than a “tad.”
Look at them, all beautiful in their own way. All different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some with fractures, some dull, others shiny and bright, but all with their own individual characters that make them beautifully unique. Hmm, sounds a lot like people now doesn’t it.
There isn’t a hateful one in the bucket.
As always, my children thought I was losing my mind as I ventured out every morning to see what treasures the ocean left behind. When will they realize they are the cause of any loss of my mind?
Anyway, shell searching is in my genes. As children, my mother taught us how to comb the beach for shells, and I followed the tradition by doing the same with my daughter. Why is this not on my resume?
I remember sitting in a hotel room with my sister going over our inventory from the day. We would break down our loot by size and style. Yes, serious records were kept with shells & Halloween candy.
Back in the day, we had an abundance of large clam shells waiting for us. That is not the case today. I’m not sure if it’s the ever-changing climate, Mother Nature’s hoarding or the loss of sexual urges amongst the clam community, whatever the reason, there were slim pickings. Feel free to now Google “how do clams reproduce?” I did.
As kids, we returned from vacation with a bucket of blank canvases. On rainy summer days, we would break out our watercolor sets to let our inner Monet surface. Our talents were displayed in our garden for all to view. It was like an ongoing Gallery opening without the wine & cheese.
It’s funny how some memories, no matter what, have the ability to leave a smile on your face. I’m glad that one let itself out of the vault.
The million dollar question around here now is: “What are you going to do with all those shells?” The response: “Something fabulous!”
Now that I’ve set the bar high, I’ve been unleashing my creative juices for this project. Hmm, how hard can it be to rustle up something wonderful, yet not too overwhelming, while meeting all the criteria necessary to be F A B U L O U S? What the hell was I thinking?
After some pondering while scanning the internet for inspiration, there is something on the horizon waiting to come to life. Will it be fabulous? OF COURSE! I’ll be working my magic shortly.
Embrace the differences to create something fabulous in the world. Enjoy the Ride!
Sure, you turned out pretty good, but is there anything you wish had been different about your childhood? If you have kids, is there anything you wish were different for them?
The 70’s were a great time to be a kid. We played outside from sun up to sun down using dare I say our imaginations. We put on shows, had carnivals, jumped rope, played house, tag, freedom and manhunt for hours on end. We rode our bikes, skated, hula-hooped, hop scotched and bottle capped our days away without a care in the world. We played stick ball, wiffle ball, kick ball and dodge ball without ever being short a player. Kids were everywhere! Most households had 5 or more kids which gave us an abundance of able bodies. We entertained ourselves and lived to talk about it.
I grew up with Watergate and a whole new meaning to drinking Kool-Aide after the Jim Jones fiasco. I was around for the Iran Hostage crisis, gas rationing and the bombing at the MunichWinter Olympics. Bad things were happening, but we weren’t consumed by them…we were busy being kids.
I had the pleasure of sporting a crocheted poncho, POW bracelets, mood rings, Dr. Sholl’s & clogs. I was introduced to Rock, Disco & Punk all in one decade. I loved watching Kojak with my dad, Happy Days, Lavern & Shirley & Eight Is Enough with my friends and The Carol Burnet show with my mom and sisters. Without sounding like a fossil, things were simple.
I walked to school, came home for lunch, did homework without help and presented projects that I created from things around the house. There wasn’t an overkill of competitiveness surrounding me. My parents didn’t drive us anywhere …. ever and our weekends weren’t consumed with sitting on a field, they were spent with family. What the hell happened?
I’m not sure how we survived, but we did. We didn’t use seat belts and there were no air bags. Our homes were not child poof in any way, but I never recall anyone being electrocuted. We played in the mud and on rusted swing sets, without ever getting a life threatening illness or injury. Even our toys weren’t safe! We could buy sizzling snakes, fire crackers and cherry bombs at the five & dime and use matches to set them off. No bubble wrap for us…we were real kids.
When I think back at the amount of freedom I had as a kid, I wonder if my parents would be reported to the authorities by today’s standards. Having faith & trust in our kids is unacceptable today. I wouldn’t change a thing about my childhood, it made me who I am today.
As for my own kids, I wish they had the pleasure of experiencing the freedom I had as a child. No worries, no pressures, just kids being kids as they Enjoy the Ride!