Its been a long yet productive weekend. Tomorrow is my last work day before i have some time off, and i can’t wait to sleep later than 6.30am. I’ve been dreaming about all the things i want to do and all the places i want to be, but unfortunately i can only be in one place at a time — and where i am right now isn’t on my list of places. I’m grateful for the experience i’ve gained here but sometimes i feel like a caged bird that gets fed old crackers to pipe back a name or flip on my perch.
I want to be out there somewhere getting lost and getting dirt under my finger nails. Somewhere that’ll be truly home. Once i’ve finished getting some farrier experience under my belt i think i’ll be more than ready to get on the road and try to find where my forever will be.
So for now i’ll dream into my tea cup and try to survive the ghastly humidity that we’re having up here in the North East.
Have a lovely on-coming week!
I’m not sure how many of you have been following my instagram stories and posts, probably not too many of you — however! That being said, i will fill you in. Recently i’ve decided to try my hand at a new trade but an old thought. My grandfather was a blackmith and my father IS a blacksmith. Having always toyed with the thought of doing the same thing i finally took the plunge. Theres nothing better than spending a day doing proper hard graft to feel like you’ve accomplished something. I’ve done theatre thing, the boat thing and so forth — i’ll keep mixin’ it up because thats what i’m all about! Now i want to add being a farrier to my repertoire; smithing and working with horses, sounds like bliss to me. I want to do something i love doing everyday — something that wont always feel like work and where i don’t necessarily have to answer to anyone but myself. In life, for me, the most important thing is feeling free and like i’m in charge of where i’m going & what i’m doing.
A desk job will never do that for me.
I want to be out there under the sun, the rain or rolling through a heavy swell.
About two weeks ago i was lucky enough to actually shadow a farrier for the day, ask questions and see if it was something i think i’d even enjoy. I didn’t get around to making a blog post because i was super busy around that time. But now that things are finally moving along and i have a few hours to do nothing this evening i wanted to share it all with you.
Next week i’ll be working hands-on with said farrier and I physically can’t wait. Im nervous but thats understandable. New things are big, scary and sometimes a little uncomfortable. Nevertheless i think it’ll be a great day i’m sure and i’ll get my foot in the door.
On a side note this has finally given me the proverbial kick up the kisser to start getting my driving license. A kick i’ve needed since i was 18, many many moons ago.. Right now i’m cycling 6 miles to work which i don’t mind all that — i’m a pretty dedicated individual, however as a farrier that just wont do.
Eliza Lee is one of my favourite shantys or “sea songs.”
It could also be considered a rolling railway song, but thats not entirely my point.
On the 26th i had my “golden year” birthday, a term i only learned about 23 minutes ago. That’s right. I’m getting on — like everyone else on the planet i grow older as the years roll by, and it sucks.
Sad really, but there it is.
Well i guess its not sad when its inevitable.
Anyway, for my birthday we drove to Boston to see the USS Constitution — something thats been on my bucket list for years and something Pat and i discussed once — ‘ how cool would it be to see Old Ironsides after having seen Victory!?” It’s something i frankly never expected to be able to do. How wrong i was. Damn, sometimes being wrong is the bee knees.
Believe you me! Everyone needs to be wrong — its ever so pleasant to be happily surprised!
In my minds eye there is nothing more freeing or beautiful than a tall ship, warship or anything with a sail or two. The history behind these old vessels is incredible and i feel ridiculously lucky to have seen the Constitution as well as the HMS Victory, one of the great loves of my life. In another life i would have been a big sea captain with a mighty brass coloured beard, a great crew and a bass voice that could shiver the timbers n’ panties off all the girls on shore.
Think on par with a redhead Captain Aubrey with a dash of Nelson, and a sliver of Cochrane.
Yep, in a dream of adventuring, hot suns and rough seas — this is where i would have spent every moment of everyday. Fixing ropes, giving the powder monkeys a hard time — they’re tough as old boots– those boys can take it and aching over charts like a mad scientist.
She may not be the HMS Victory, but she is a magnificent ship with a history of brilliance in tow; and the most beautiful ship i’ve seen in America to date. And having the pleasure of walking her deck, running my fingers over her lines and feeling the heave of her bosom over the small surge in tide, as i’ve done with so many others — it was magic. True magic.
One of the few things in this world that make me feel like a woman is the feel of a big ol’ship, because she breathes, yearns and sometimes creaks in her planking just the way a woman grows in life. She’s tough, keeps her crew and will rarely ever falter. She is the safe place a million miles from shore, and tugs at her anchor ready for the next adventure on the horizon. After all ships are not meant to sit out a storm in a harbour.
There is a reason a ship is a she.
I know i’m a giant contradiction of a person. I want to be the sailor i know i am, but i want to ride the desert with a good horse and have my farm one day. Its near impossible to do both, but so far i’ve somehow managed to keep them alive. The lights of possibility will never go out.
I will always wish to dive in deeper but for now i’ll do what i can to keep my head above the water.
Ultimately, I had an amazing start to a new year at a new age. New beginnings are around the corner, which i wont divulge until they are more concrete and new ideas are brewing on the stove as they always are.
I’m ticking things off my bucket list every year and i’m so many experiences richer than i could have ever been, had i stayed in England.
So i thank my nineteen year old self for making a hard decision in the space of a mili-second, and not really thinking it through — because it was the best darn choice ever made.
Birds deep in their song, hidden in the fur of branches in Pawtuckaway park are a gift after months of snow and ice.
Nature runs in our blood like whiskey in a drunk. We’re bred to explore, to feel the wind in our faces and to sweat under a glaring sun.
We are as wild at heart as the buffalo and the bear.
Never mind the water snakes.
No matter how far you travel from where you were born you are never truly lost if you open your heart to the wild. For there is wild in every corner of the earth. Whether it is splashing in a cold lake on a hot day, pulling yourself up a mountain or hanging on for dear life on the back of a horse.
You can find home in a million places but you have to find you first.
Everything falls into place after that.
The first day of the season.
Geese were paddling gaily in the open stretches of lake streams. The wind was playing in the eaves as a scandic child would in snow. Only hazes of clouds that could have been, floated in the clear blue. There was nothing missing here. It was everything and nothing.
Nothing we needed. Nothing we couldn’t over come.
Everything was just the two us walking through a wood.
Chipmunks spitting out nut shells, baby squirrels leaping from bed to branch and the water snakes slithering in the under growth, this is living.
So many have been denied the art of living.
Everyday the same.
It doesn’t have to be us.
And it doesn’t have to be you.
Paint like you did when you were four with your fingers all in that mess.
Run like you were running the olympics. Run to all those dreams your adult self decided weren’t meant to be.
Yes, you have to work to live, but you must always remember that you live for you.
The wild will always be calling you — open the damn window and listen.
Like my ancestors before me, i travelled so many miles from my little home in Denmark all those years ago; to wake up every morning under a new sun and see what the world had to offer me.
Walking the path of a wanderer in the free of it.
That meant putting certain things on hold and risking everything to find something bigger or better.
My love of the stage, comedy, sailing which was like breathing to me and the old captain who lives on without me.
Its all worlds away now.
And whilst my family and my shipmate, live all those thousands of miles from me — i know that i carry them with me on my shoulders everyday.
The hardships, the laughter and the memories.
The days we sailed through life without a care for anything.
With every post card, every photo in an envelope — they can live as i do.
In the mountains.
On the Texas plains.
By the sea.
I’d be lying if i said it wasn’t terribly hard to be gone, but you have to walk the way your heart goes.
Mine raced far ahead of me with the wind.
Who am i to deny it?
As long as the wind blows i’ll never catch it.
The wind will never stop blowing, and i shall always trail my heart to wherever it is supposed to go.
I don’t where i’ll end up but i’m lucky to have someone to go with me.
This weekend we lost ourselves in these woods.
We laughed like idiots, i got my feet wet and Jack turned into Gandalf the blue-eyed.
And as i mentioned on facebook,
no one got eaten by a bear.
“Remember the quiet wonders. The world has more need of them than it has for warriors.”