Swordfish and Sea Beans

Last night, Matt and my parents, aunt and uncle and friends made me an incredible beach fire birthday party on Cape Cod Bay. It was windy, so Matt dug the hole deep, and with plenty of kibitzing and kindling, managed to create a superlative grill fire.I always say that I'm lucky, sometimes even signing letters with a less than semi-ironic 'luckiest person alive,' (see Barbara Kingsolver's Animal Dreams for the full implications of that one). Life has so far been generous beyond belief to me, and last night, sitting out on the beach surrounded by stars and fire and food and people that I love, I've never been so grateful.
There were beer brats, corn, swordfish, potatoes, beer, marshmallows, and cake. Judy and my mother piled foraged presents in my lap. The amazing array, collected from the Wellfleet town dump swap shop and the salt marshes, included two bread pans filled with rosehips, periwinkles, and sea beans, and a full-on stand mixer with a dough hook.

Covered in sand, smelling like wood smoke, showered with rose hips and silver coin plants, watching geriatric charades and a spirited rendition of the story my birth, leaning up against the grillmeister, that's about all I need in this life. Came home to find an email message from a very long lost friend. If anything was missing, it came a few minutes ago when Liana called from Uganda.

Let this be a good year. For all of us. Let us live well and do no harm, maybe even make something. That's this sandy beach rat hippy's birthday wish.