The background noise is a steady rumble of surf, with a distant fog horn mixed in. I've given Rick his own harmonica as an early birthday gift, so the two of us add to the local symphony with our soulful, sloppy melodies. We'll spend today, like yesterday, walking with the dogs on the beach, skipping the perfectly flat stones that grow here, and always watching for Treasures, because you never know when one will turn up. In the very beginning of our romance, which is still that, a romance, after all these years, Rick had a box full of beautiful round, smooth, flat rocks that he'd picked up here at Gold Beach and brought back to the desert. I adopted those rocks when I invited him to share my world, and felt truly sad when we had to leave them in my tiny yard in Nevada. No room for a box of rocks in those days, and certainly no room for one now either. But here we are, back at Gold Beach, enjoying the company of the rocks again, and maybe taking just one along for the next ride with us, as a reminder of our beginnings together.
I had a high school art teacher who always told us Perfection Is Boring. I've made good use of that mantra over the years, excusing myself for less than perfect art, and even for less than perfect behavior. But today I'd have to say that sometimes, perfection is in everything, and everything is perfect.
While I'm enjoying this little break on the Oregon Coast, my friend Jean Yates, jeweler to the stars, (she should be!) is holding a one day sale. I like seeing someone else work! Haha! Wicked Kim. Tired Kim. I'm resting today, so go have a look at Jean's most amazing offering, this magnificent bracelet, perfectly fit for a queen, or for you, or your best friend, or your mother, or some other wonderful woman of royal stature!