Sarah had her book released this week. It's called Salt Story, and you can find out more about it here, on her very excellent blog called The Wine Dark Sea. I had it on pre-order, picked it up and am allowing myself to read it in smallish bites, because the urge to just devour it is strong. If I do I'll regret it because Sarah's stories, her use of language are to be savored and not just consumed. Someone said 'you know you've read a good book when you turn the last page and feel a little as if you have lost a friend.' This is one of those books.
I have a great affection for certain ex-fishermen, but I've always been drawn to stories of the ocean, ships, boats. Water, along with Celtic music, is part of my basic genetic makeup, it took a long time to understand why, but some things can't be denied, a little like fisheries officers in uniform.
I met Sarah a long time ago, we lived across the road from each other. Her children and mine were of similar ages and over the years they played and went to school and made up parts of the neighborhood mob. I remember her in the relentless pissing down pouring rain, digging a huge hole to bury her dog, the size of a small pony, one of the most poignant things I've ever seen. I can still see her practicing her fire twirling on a sultry Saturday evening, and it still makes me smile to remember it.