Rumor has it that the tide is going to be so low tonight that we will be able to walk across the tide flats by the light of the full Blue Moon, and collect crabs with our bare hands. Bon fire and crab feed at the beach to ring in the New Year? Sounds like a plan to me.
Especially since we’ve got all of these unused snow clothes lying around. Might as well bundle up and eat well tonight. I might even go so far as to claim there is nothing better than fresh crab for dinner. I’m not going to claim that sitting around a community fire while surrounded by snow sounds like the best idea to me, but for fresh Dungeness Crab, I’m willing to give it a go.
I realize this may sound like a strange way to celebrate the New Year for you non-local folk. But, if you lived here, you would understand. In fact, it reminds me of a story I heard about a man who moved his family here from the Midwest in 1999 as the fear of Y2K struck Apopalyptic visions in his mind. His Rationale? If the world economy and agricultural infrastructure imploded … well, at least he would know he could feed his family by digging shellfish from the sea. He visited here as a child once. True story.
As bizarre as that may sound, I have to tell you … I was speaking with a friend the other day who described our little island as “either a secret MENSA colony, or a breeding ground for [social disorders].” Her words. Not mine. Although, I can’t say that I disagree with her entirely. But I think I’m leaning toward the MENSA colony. Clearly.
At the end of the day, I can love it or hate it, but this is my home. So I make the most of it. By going crabbing. Bare-handed. On New Year’s Eve. With children bundled up around the fire to keep from freezing. Because in 2011, my goal is to embrace the realities of my life.
For example, I just looked out my window and saw a coyote roaming around my yard. Searching for food in the snow-covered woods. I’m not saying I was tempted to open the door and let two annoying little smelly cats out for some fresh air. I’m just saying … the realities of the food chain are beyond my control. But collecting my own food to welcome the new year seems to tie in with my whole Minimalist thing somehow.
(Relax. I did not sacrifice kittens on the night of a Blue Moon bringing in the New Year. Karma and all.)