Finding the Right Voice

Yesterday, we hung out at the beach, played all day. It's a testament to a tremendous effort that the boys not only love going to the beach, but they stay all day without a peep of complaint.



Later, we stopped at a new hot dog shack in Perkins Cove. It was once where you bought tickets for the Ugly Anne tourist fishing boat or a soft serve ice cream cone. Don't ask me how they worked together but it did, and they were there for many years.

But times change, and while you can still get tickets for the Ugly Anne, the tiny store front is now a Hot Dog stand. We saw the Frito's, Chili and Cheese combo and had to try it.



The dogs had a nice snap and were served in a grilled bun. They scored very high, although more Frito's were needed and a little more cheese. Overall, while it's no Flo's, the infamous hot dog shack of Cape Neddick, it isn't bad.

By the end of the day, the boys headed back to Boston with Jeanine. They are off to Cousin's camp in Maryville, Missouri, with cousins coming in from Iowa, Florida, with Aunt Toni in charge.

For a week.

I have a week, alone, in my house in Ogunquit, Maine. Do you have any idea how close to heaven that is? It's not just the CD player blasting Joan Armatrading, or the fact that the house is actually clean, or sitting on the deck with the breeze keeping the bugs away and the temperature oh so slightly chilled.

It's a week to read the stack of Nation magazines I've fallen behind with. To pull out an essay or two from MFK Fisher's The Art of Eating to remind myself how much I love her work. To eat when I feel like it. To walk the beach, endlessly, with no one waiting for my return. To wander down for the best mussels on this coast at 98 Provence. To pull up a seat at the upstairs bar at MC Perkins Cove to have their amazing Caesar salad with white anchovies- anchovies so good even my kids eat them. And the sesame crusted deep fried rainbow trout with Chinese fermented black beans will make you rethink fresh water fish forever more.

No, I have no problem eating alone in a restaurant. Bar seats are always fun and everyone around, especially in a resort town, are happy to strike up a conversation. Sometimes, I prefer a table, alone, tucked away, where I can listen to different people talking, create characters and life stories from what I see in a moment.

I love my family more than life itself. I was keenly aware of the fact that Jeanine had all three boys on a plane today. They landed safely and the Joan Armatrading came out. I started to relax. A little.

It's hard for me to let go. I wondered if Jake ever packed his toothbrush like I asked. I hope Zachary actually changes his clothes, at least once. I know Ben will be struggling without his cell phone- lost in a cab in NYC, the replacement has not come in yet.

I promised myself this time to write- to work on longer pieces, to work on the essays for my book.

If I don't post this week, it's because I'm working hard on getting back to the roots of my writing. I'm tempted to repost some of the pieces I wrote when I first started this blog- when no one was reading it. They came from my core. Often, I would take a photo and then write the piece.

I haven't done that in a long time. I miss it.

Sometimes, you have to go away to come back fuller, deeper, richer. I hope to do that. I've struggled lately with what is the role I want to take in the blogsphere. I feel the need to reinvent myself, in someway.

Or not.

But, no matter what, to find the right voice for me. Not the perfect voice, not the most beautiful but the right one.

For today.