Something New

BAINBRIDGE ISLAND, WA – The last time I moved to an island I got a good piece of advice from a friend of mine. The island in question was Sicily and the advice went something like this:

“Throw away your daily to-do lists. If you get one thing done around here – find something you need at a store, pay a bill, get anywhere, do anything – consider it a successful day.”

I would learn that calling Sicily a little chaotic is like saying New York City is a little big, or the ocean a little wet, or Mini Me a little little. So anyway, as it turned out, it was good advice. Call it a twist on carpe diem – seize the day, but don’t kill yourself trying because you’re probably not going to get too much done anyway. After all, anything really worth doing can probably wait until tomorrow regardless. Or so it seemed to many.

And so, as we reenter Island Living, I am reminded of my friend’s words. But in an entirely different context. I have already learned that to say there is a lot to do here is like saying there is a lot of fish in the sea (many of which are caught everyday and served fresh at local restaurants or sold at local markets) or that there are a lot of beers and wines in a bar (many of which are made locally and are really tasty and if you don’t watch yourself you could get really fat trying them all out) or that there are a lot of trees in a forest (and hiking trails and breath-taking vistas overlooking sailboat-dotted bays and kayak-running rivers and, oh look, I bet that restaurant has fresh fish and some good micro brews…)

So, yeah, there’s a lot to do here. Which is good because we’ve promised ourselves something. And so we come to the point of all this.

We’ve promised ourselves – and the kids -- that we will try to do something new at least once a week. The truth is we probably could do something new every day. But that would be ambitious, plus there’s that whole real life thing of having to go to school and earn a living and stuff.

So, we exchange carpe diem for seize the week. We’re going to try and make Saturdays our adventure day, the day generally reserved for going out and exploring this New World we find ourselves in.

Today was our first one. It was simple, but rich. Marley started before the rest of us. She is training for a 60-mile hike (over three days) to raise money to fight breast cancer (more about that in future posts, I’m sure), so she was out of the house early hiking the seven miles from our house on the north end of the island down into the village of Winslow which serves as the “downtown” of Bainbridge Island. The kids and I joined her for breakfast at the local diner, a Bainbridge icon dubbed the Streamliner.

From there, and here’s where the new part comes in, we went to the Farmers’ Market, which is an every-Saturday-thing here through the warm months. More than just locally-grown produce, the market is artisan-and-yummy stuff free-for-all. Not that any of it is actually free, of course. I spent a good 20 minutes talking to Mike and his wife Beth and their son Ellis. They own one of the two wineries on the island that both grow their own grapes and press them here. Mike was a self-described “computer-geek programmer” until a few years ago when he decided to follow his life’s dream and buy a patch of earth here and become winemaker.

I’ve always wanted to know more about winemaking and within our short conversation had volunteered to come help out at their farm.

Meanwhile, Marley and the kids were busy buying some marigolds for planting. As we joined back up, we picked out some strawberry and tomato plants as well. Once we arrived back home, we found some old planting pots that had been thoughtfully left behind by the previous tenants and all got our hands good and dirty settling everything into their new homes.

We debated the best places to put them and decided that we were very smart to put the plants in pots because the sun is limited in our little patch in the forest and we’re not quite sure yet where they’ll be able to soak the most light. Until you know where you’re going to put down roots, it’s good to keep things mobile.

It was also good to have my hands in soil again. It made me miss our garden in Ohio, but also seeded that wonderful hopeful feeling that only comes from planting living things in good earth. I cannot guarantee that we will enjoy delicious strawberries or tomatoes from our new little mini garden, or that the flowers will bloom any longer than today, but I know that I can fertilize them every few weeks and make sure they get enough water, or not too much water, and fight off the weeds as best I can and if I do all those things chances are pretty good.

Of course I know they could all be dead in a week, too. But, still, it is a good kind of hope that comes from getting dirt deep under my fingernails. It capped off a week that saw a return of hope for us. The joy of hope. The joy trust. Indeed, it was good week.

While the dust is far from settled, we are settling. The ache of departure is slowly being replaced with the first tentative beats of whatever new rhythm is unfolding for us here.

So there you have it. There – to the Bainbridge Island Farmers’ Market – and back again. Next time, I’ll try and take some pictures.