It is amazing to me how things birthed in us as small children stick with us our entire lives. My mom worked graveyard shift at a sherrif's office as a disbatcher when I was younger than 4. It became a 'wee hours of the morning' ritual for me to wander out to the livingroom to find Mom watching an episode of M*A*S*H. One night Hawkeye was reminscing about his hometown of 'Crabapple Cove', Maine. The way he described it drew the romantic out of my naive, 3 yr. old heart & I longed to be there, and I decided then and there I would go one day. There is no Crabapple Cove, however. Not one to be dissuaded, I researched where the writers patterned Hawkeye's hometown after! No luck. I know girls who have longed to go to Paris, or Venice there whole lives. To this day I still want to go to Maine more than anywhere else in the world... (the Greek Isles run a close 2nd though).
When my children were growing up I read a book that quickly became a family favorite. "Miss Rumphius", written by Barbara Cooney, made us dream and ponder in the warm glow of her illustrations. She was known as the 'Lupine Lady'. Why, you must find out for yourselves... Because we loved this book so much, we went hunting for others by her at our library. We discovered a little known book entitled "Island Boy". We treasure it. Matthias lived our dream. Both of these books take place in Maine. Ms. Cooney loved these 2 books the best out of all her works because she felt they described her hope for children and her love and gratitude for Maine. They have fueled my callow, sentimental dreams.
Hope burns bright. Hope that began in a Korean War camp and a nightly ramble in search of a Mother's snuggles.
1 comment:
Childhood is the stuff dreams are made of. It's interesting to me how the haunts of our childhood somehow connect us to them. I'm glad you're still dreaming. Somehow, I truly believe you'll visit those far away lands and islands. Hopefully I'll be along for the ride. Watching your eyes drink in the coastline is a dream of mine.
Your blog is really coming along, babe. We need to get you into typepad.
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