Hanging on Every Word

"The little man could only stare. He hadn't dreamed of the BIGNESS of the sea. He hadn't dreamed of the blueness of it. He hadn't thought it would roll like kettledrums, and swish itself on to the beach. He opened his mouth, and the drift and the dream of it, the weave and the wave of it, the fume and the foam of it never left him again. At his feet the sea stroked the sand with soft little paws. Farther out, the great, graceful breakers moved like kings into court, trailing the peacock-patterned sea behind them."

Gratefuls:
- one more day together, including drinks at Pátio
- Eden enjoying the same books her Mum loved
- Tom helping Mike install a ceiling fan, and coming with me to my English class