My lip has cracked due to extensive adventures in the sun and heat, with too much salt and admittedly a bit of dehydration- all the running around and forgetting to drink. . . i know i know.  But Badger Healing Balm is my saviour. . . and combined with the blueberries I’ve been picking and consuming like mad. . . I’m on the healing path.  I’m actually quite enamoured with every Badger product- the Bali Balm for too much sun, the Coffee Roast lip balm for a sensual scent wafting under my nose, the Sleep Balm for calmly drifting off. . . I have a stockpile- there’s a tin for every occasion, made even more cozy by being Certified Organic and started by a “carpenter/herbalist/storyteller”. 

The blueberry fields stretch to the ocean and I pick quart after quart. . . listening to the seagulls and watching the bits of sky drift and gather into stormclouds, shower us for awhile, then skirt away again over the waves. . . the everchanging quality of Maine weather in August.  The thunderstorms have been intense with lightening like I haven’t seen for a long time. . . and the fog rolls in on sandy beaches where people picinic, dance with their dogs on the water’s edge, and cast their fishing lines off of weathered docks and dinghys. 

No matter what I’m doing here. . . I’m in love.  I’ve been scouring flea markets on trips to Searsport and Belfast with my mum whose company is as delicious as the baskets of blueberries warm in the sun.  Our fingers are stained purple from the harvest, as we continue on to wrap them around steaming mugs of tea or cold pressed coffee at Chase’s Daily. . . where the back section is filled with fresh from the farm produce- the most beautiful bouquets I’ve ever seen gathered in one place- except for the organic farm where I worked during a magical summer when I was 16.  The rough benches are covered with jewel toned beets, carrots, swiss chard, onions, radishes, mixed greens filled with borage and nasturtiums, cucumbers, summer squash, and a myriad of herbs and cabbages. . . I could easily fill bag after bag after bag. . . I have to remember that it all needs to be used and I’m not feeding hundreds of people, just the small stream of friends and family that inevitably come through during these vacation months. 

From the flea markets I come away with vintage jewelry to deconstruct and retangle and knot into pieces, adding bezels filled with found objects and salvaged pieces, charms and recycled glass.  My trip to New York next week will be more of the same and should give me enough material to prepare for upcoming shows and orders.  If I can only tear myself away from quilting projects, clothing refashioning and outdoor adventures/travels long enough to settle down at the workbench!

 

I’ve been making raw tiramisu and banana ice cream sandwiches as well as the most beautiful simple salads from all the fresh produce. . . and for guests I’ve created rustic tarts, fresh blueberry muffins and scones, pancakes and pies for younger cousins, wilted greens and baked tomatoes, braised fennel with green beans I picked from our garden. . . and pickling the myriad of vegetables in raw apple cider vinegar and fresh dill.  The house is scented and cozy. . . the fog only adds to the mysterious quality of East Coast summers. . . and the love and laughter abounds from all directions. 

 

So dip your fingers into the balm of these days. . . there is always something soothing, nourishing and healing about digging your hands into the dirt or bushes, gathering your own food, preparing it with loving hands and no matter how sun-cracked your smile may be, savor every bit of the glowing exchanges. . .