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Sandwich, as in a Place, Not on a Plate

Sandwich was where my Cape Cod life began. Easter 1967, my dad took me for a walk and told me he would be going to Vietnam. He explained Vietnam to me; I asked him why the people who make the wars don’t fight them (some things don’t change). It was his job he said. Pretty much the end of the discussion, other than my fear “will you be killed?” He would be leaving in July. In the meantime, he would have some time with the family. Later that spring he told me we were going on vacation. He was very excited and told me to guess where as he gave me a hint, “Cape…” “Canaveral!” I cried. No, not quite. Cape Cod. Never heard of it. “Where the heck is that?” I asked. Needless to say, I wasn’t impressed. We took plenty of trips to Massachusetts to visit my Irish family, so Massachusetts wasn’t such a big whoop for a vacation to me, even if it wasn’t at my gran’s.

Natural Love

It’s very hard for me to pick just one thing, but for bloggy giveaways from folks whose work I admire, I will always attempt a choice —

“tell me one non human thing in the natural world that you love the most and why” (from Resurrection Fern), so here goes:

Trees — because we burn them, chop them down and more yet they never give up…their roots are deep and they will push up new growth wherever they can, even through concrete…their tenacity inspires me when i feel discouraged…

Now go tell her yours here.