If you look around my office prayer space or on my bedroom dresser, you’ll notice one constant: broken conch and whelk shells everywhere. Small and blue-grey, large and sun-bleached white, twisting, turning, spiraling in that gorgeous and mysterious way that sea shells do. Although I do have one perfect channeled whelk shell, which I purchased in Cape May years ago, my prized possessions are the broken shells because, as far as I’m concerned, they are far more beautiful than the ones that are perfectly intact and so lovely on the outside. Read more
Vacation is under way here at the Poust House. Last night we fired up some S’mores. Today we are packing our annual single-serve sugar-loaded we-never-eat-this-any-other-time breakfast cereals. Every year the kids look forward to eating this stuff with abandon. (Shhh, don’t tell them most of these marshmallow-packed and chocolate-flavored cereals were considered healthy eating when I was little.)
“Pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars, green clovers…” They’re magically delicious!
We will spend the next seven days eating some of the best worst food ever. Fried Oreos, waffles and ice cream, pizza and more pizza, and sugary cereals of every kind. Maybe I’ll post some shore food photos along the way. Stay tuned…
While the mindful side of the Jersey Shore is something special and under appreciated, I would be remiss if I did not also mention the totally mindless side of Wildwood. It’s like the yin and yang of shore vacations. Read more
Unfortunately, when people hear the words “Jersey Shore” these days, they more often than not think of that awful show of the same name. Although I’ve never seen even one minute of said show, I’ve been subjected to enough of the unavoidable supermarket rag headlines to know that it doesn’t portray an especially positive, pretty, or peaceful view of what really is an incredibly beautiful place. Read more
When I’m sitting on the beach, staring out at the Atlantic Ocean, I can’t help but hear prayers of praise echoing in my head along with the crashing waves. The power of the ocean is unsettling and comforting all at once, and for me there is something deeply spiritual about that. Read more