at the beach | reverse threading

we popped up at the old beachhouse.

it’s under construction; they are restoring it, this beautiful art-deco historic building, finished in 1940. the southport beachhouse “used recycled materials to cut costs. this way, rather than paying for new materials, the city paid workers to tear down condemned buildings as well as build new ones. the beach house uses luxurious slate, stone and marble materials salvaged from the old kenosha post office, which would have been otherwise unaffordable.” part of the new deal and roosevelt’s wpa (works progress administration) it is a gorgeous structure on the shore of lake michigan and the place we had our reception six years ago, a bonfire on the beach to end a stunning day.

in the middle of the beginning of covid – last year – i read an article about a new york couple’s ingenious solution to the inability to go to restaurants or pubs or gather with others, instead to isolate and social distance. i saved it and thought it was something worth pursuing.

this year, after a lot of research and a couple false starts sent back, i found a lightweight (mostly plastic) folding table and lightweight (mostly plastic) folding stools. i showed them to david and said, “let’s have pop-up dinners!”. small enough to be kept in littlebabyscion or big red, it’s an intention that begs spontaneity.

our first pop-up was this past sunday after our trip to the orchard.

we carried the table and stools and the picnic basket, the one from my sweet momma and poppo, onto the beach and found a spot in front of the scaffolds on the cement by the building, lit our candle-in-a-jelly-jar, set out our plates and cloth napkins and cheese and crackers and olives, our metal stemware. easy.

i imagine this fall, and even winter, will bring many pop-up dinners and happy hours. i can already list the places at which i’d love to pop up. snowpants and mittens won’t deter us. we’ll carry blankets, maybe thermoses of warm soup.

it was a little chilly at the beachhouse on sunday. the breeze was picking up. i picked up my phone and turned on the one piece of music i have saved to it. cherish the ladies began playing if ever you were mine and i watched david rise off his stool. he came over to me, held out his hand and invited me to dance.

as the sun began to dip below the horizon and the colors in the sky began to rise above the lake, on a honeycrisp apple kind of day, we danced on the sandy beach, scaffolding and a smiling cream city brick beachhouse our backdrop, a pop-up dinner waiting.

*****

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read DAVID’S thoughts this K.S. FRIDAY

*if you are near MILLNECK MANOR on long island, please visit and have a pop-up dinner for us. ❤️

we have a dishwasher. this is a picture of it. it does not work. but it takes up space in our old kitchen that would otherwise be blank. instead, we wash dishes. by hand. the old fashioned way. it’s a good time to gaze out the window and think or have a little conversation as we wash, dry and put away. in no rush. i distinctly remember watching my sweet momma and poppo do this when i was growing up. they would stand and chat (or be quiet) and work together until one day when my dad brought home a portable dishwasher that attached via a hose to the sink. they would roll the dishwasher out of the laundry room. it would sit, attached to the faucet, in the middle of the kitchen and you had to maneuver around it to get to the cabinets or across the kitchen. ahhh. dishwashers have come so far. and yes, some haven’t. like ours.

for the last week we have had the gift of being in an absolutely beautiful place on the ocean. there are too many superlatives to list about the magic of being there, too many stories to tell. so many memories to take with us, so many learnings.

and – we had the use of a dishwasher… a real live one that actually works; it washes dishes all by itself and then dries them. amazing!

one morning, after waiting for the coffee to brew, david brought me coffee in bed and said he had realized something. during the spell of time he was waiting, after opening up the house to the rising sun, he emptied the dishwasher. he took each item out and carefully put it away in its place. slowly. when he came upstairs he told me that this simple task had actually been quite profound. and, because it’s what we do, we talked about this observation.

as we take on many new tasks with much to orient to and learn, we have agreed to do just this, to move with this simple mantra: to empty the dishwasher slowly. to put each thing gently in its place. to be mindful and intentional and not overwhelmed. each glass will get put away, each plate will stack, each utensil will nest. there is no rush. there is right now.

read DAVID’S thoughts this MERELY-A-THOUGHT MONDAY

reverse threading

the path back is the path forward

Tag Archives: at the beach

empty the dishwasher slowly. [merely-a-thought monday]

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