“As I ate the oysters with their strong taste of the sea and their faint metallic taste that the cold white wine washed away, leaving only the sea taste and the succulent texture, and as I drank their cold liquid from each shell and washed it down with the crisp taste of wine, I lost the empty feeling and began to be happy and to make plans.”
~E. Hemingway
It has become the time to begin to dare greatly. To live with authenticity, one moment at a time. This blog is a practice in tasting oysters: with words, images, thoughts, or ideas.
I’m a 40-something small-town-girl-turned-suburbanite. I write poetry and some blog bits. I work at a university where I do not teach. Long ago, I taught high school English, and have failed/grown wise through many other experiences, as well. Writing continues to guide me through the management and struggle and pure wonder of being a human.
Inspiration comes from the daily grind, from people-watching, thinking over a 5:30 beer or a good red blend, and getting up too early to study poetry. I’m currently taking a break from completing my M.F.A in poetry. Maybe I’ll never go back. But it’s likely you’ll probably see a bit of poetry here and there in this space.
Note: The original name of this blog was “The Oyster Index,” which I thought to be incredibly clever in light of one of my favorite Hemingway quotes and my goal to write of inspiring life things. Alas, it eventually seemed to me a touch too obscure, and possibly alluded to some kind of marine biology research study. But I’ll always love my intent at that time in my life, and this quote. Even if in real life, I still haven’t developed a taste for the little critters.
I just came across your blog and love everything I’d read so far. Look forward to following your journey wherever it may lead me… eventually to oysters!! Peace and be very blessed. Michele
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This makes me smile. Thank you Michele, who spells her name exactly right–just like I do.
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Ha ha a fellow one L!! Hope you’re having a lovely day.
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LOVE your blog’s name. One of my happiest memories is of eating oysters and drinking white wine on a rainy afternoon in Brittany.
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Thank you! Isn’t it amazing that the most pure moments are usually the most memorable.
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We have to be aware of them. That’s the challenge.
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Very much. That could be a fun writing topic–the memories we didn’t make.
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