01/02/2026
Hours-long summer beach walks with my grandmother. We weren’t looking for anything in particular, just filling pails with bleached-out shells to be saved for winter crafting. She taught me then that the daily walk wasn't a luxury; it was a necessity. A way to stay tethered to the tide.
July beach walks are a far-flung memory today. January in Maine is white, flat, and perfectly quiet. But the holiday rush is over, and I’m back at a kitchen table with my nieces, pouring Maine beeswax into those same curved shells and found items for repurposing.
We work quietly. No "hustle," no urgency. It’s just another generation learning that you don't always need to buy what you can make with a steady hand and a bit of frugality. A gentle way to begin the year and the most delicious smelling candles to burn bright on these winter nights.