Happy Isle.

May 10, 2010 By Kelle

I wish I could really describe what it’s like. When we’re there and all the planets are aligned and things are just as they should be…and there are constant moments of thinking, This here? This is beautiful. I know I say ‘beautiful’ all the time on this blog, but it is and, for all the posts I’ve dedicated to the Isles of Capri, today’s is perhaps the summit while all the others were just stops on the climb. Because yesterday, when I was there, I saw the entire landscape–things I’ve never seen before–and there, on the beach with my family and my friends on my special Mama Day, I staked my claim and raised my flag. This is our Isles of Capri where all the good in our life is turned up a few notches and all we have to do is enjoy it.

The day was storybook with cerulean skies, pillow-perfect clouds and staccato melodies from wood chimes that echoed across the beach. Brett says gravity is different here. Because he swears there is some galactic force that pulls him toward this beach. No seriously, he really does. And while I can’t say he hasn’t had his share of cockameemee ideas, this time he might just be right.

I told Brett on the way home last night, “You know, if going to Isles of Capri was an illegal drug, I’d so be in jail…and I would rot there happily.”

We arrived early and stayed late. We cartwheeled in the sand. We found freaky creatures that fanned gelatinous wings and squirted purple ink.

There was so much color, so much life, so much laughter. Especially when Heidi burrowed into a stack of kayaks to get a good shot and almost died when the kayaks toppled over. Or when we did the Irish jig on the floating dock and I strangely felt the need to say “Irish jig, Irish jig, Irish jig” over and over while I did it. Or when Brett asked what time it was and I whiplashed my head and screamed, “You bite your tongue, Boy. You NEVER EVER ask what time it is on the Isle of Capri.”

And the kids explored the island from the sea grapes to the end of the dock where the barnacles grow. And you can’t help but sit there and smile taking it all in–the happiness here and how it’s so concentrated, so pure after the events of a busy week tend to dilute that purity. Sunday may be the end of a weekend, but it’s still the beginning of a week and starting off like that? You can’t go wrong.

Nella’s First Painted Piggies!

And Nella? Oh, sweet girl. She was made for this island, and all the shells I bent over that big beautiful belly to collect and save throughout my pregnancy here echo the blessed truth that this girl’s presence on the Isle of Capri makes it even more magical, if that’s even possible. She slept in the moses basket, just like Lainey used to do, and was calmed by salty sea breezes and being lulled in the shade.

And then, when we are completely sun-soaked and sand-sprinkled, it happens. The Isle hushes as the clouds part and the water glows, and this giant ball of sun gives the day its last hoorah. That’s when the magic really begins.

And when the sun sinks low, we kiss the day goodbye and trail into the tiki hut to replace cold draft with hot coffee. Last night, the littles danced in their jammies to island tunes as we huddled around a table with friends to play the “If Game.” If you could meet one person, dead or alive, who would it be? If you could vacation anywhere in the world for seven days with your family right now, where would it be? If you could… And the questions continued as we laughed and teased about answers, sipping coffee from styrofoam cups, all the while watching crazy, tired, heat-exhausted littles spinning circles on the old wood floors and doing that whole hysteric laugh thing that comes when you haven’t had any sleep and your friends are really, really funny.

I love my Island babies and the way they smell of sunscreen and salt at the end of the night. I like baby wipe baths and how they take the sand off but leave just enough of the beach so that later, when I’m cuddled in bed with them in the middle of the night, I can close my eyes and still smell that coconutty sweetness and remember just how magical the day was.

And, yesterday, I had a job. I said I’d do it when she was born and things would be just fine when I did. And, with a happy heart, I added a dollar to the beam of the bar that overlooks the beach where we make our magic. And things were just fine. And they will be.

What a happy Mother’s Day it was.

Have I said how happy this place makes me?

“Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon. A happiness weapon. A beauty bomb. And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one. It would explode high in the air – explode softly – and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes into the air. Floating down to earth – boxes of Crayolas. And we wouldn’t go cheap, either – not little boxes of eight. Boxes of sixty-four, with the sharpener built right in. With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, amber and umber and all the rest. And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with imagination.” ~Robert Fulghum

And speaking of happiness…my bathing suit rocks, and one of you commenters gets one. Picture yourself, all sun-kissed and retro fabulous sippin’ lemonade and sinking your toes into the sand. You could bake cookies in this suit, seriously. Pamela at Popina Swimwear designed it herself (with all the curves and fabulousness of a woman’s body in mind, too) and is giving one away to one of you in just your size. Start pickin’ out a hat to go with it. Winner will be picked randomly from comments on this post and will be announced this Wednesday evening. Now, pardon me while I get some work done. We’s got some fairy garden plannin’ to do!

…and I hereby proclaim my apologies for any spelling or grammatical errors I’ve made past, present, or fewchure. xoxo

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