I thought we were supposed to have a secret blog name, so I chose North River (rather than Lee). For awhile, I was Charybdis, but that's hard to type and not such a peaceful presence, so I am now a river. North River is the earlier name for the Hudson and the name still used by mariners, and there is a beautiful North River between Boston and Cape Cod. I like the fit. If it gets confusing, I'll switch.
You know the Native American maxim about pausing to let the soul catch up? I feel the need to swim quietly again with our stories, including ones that Susan loaned me. An immediate plan is to deliver my Charybdis story to my Seaport group of eccentric ship lovers. They're mostly men, so the presentation won't be quite what they're used to. I see it as the perfect introduction to our September meeting about Hell Gate.
My mask has weathered well. The crepe paper eased, her feathers are fluffier, and I removed the fuzzy ball from her mouth, so she's no longer plugged by something looking like a pacifier. She hangs on the beach house wall -- my memory of a transformative week with beautiful friends.