Why run with the crowd when you can run around in circles?

Monday, June 29, 2009

What did you do today?


Well, friends of mine just returned from an 8 month circumnavigation via the southern ocean. Me, I brushed the mats out of the dog. And am waiting for a bull’s eye rash to appear where I pulled that deer tick off my leg the other day.

This time last year, I was having the best time of my life, despite the fact that I lived mostly in my car. That wonderful summer was what lured me to stay here, to suffer through winter. I was looking forward to another fantastic New England summer, where I could start working towards a new goal, whatever that might turn out to be.

But this year, something doesn’t seem quite right, as I sit here moldering. I’m winter white, not having seen the sun other than for a few moments here and there. It rains nearly every day. It’s raining as I type this. Temps rarely get to 70 degrees. I can’t breathe from all the pollen. I’m working simply to pay rent, not towards any goal or dream.

Because I have so very many good things here, good friends, enough work to get by, a wonderful dog, a lovely home and workshop, I’m trying hard not to think, why am I not out circumnavigating the planet?*




*How's that for a happy cheery post?

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

What's wrong with this picture?



This new microwave must have been installed by a giant with no brain. I'm 5'7", and am stretching just to reach the bottom edge. I can't reach the top buttons, and although I could manage to shove something in, if it stopped near the back, I would be unable to get it back out. And forget using the convection shelf. Do you think that the 5'4" tenant moving in will be impressed with having to use a footstool to nuke her food?

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Boat Habits

Good boating habits can make the difference between a boat that floats and one that doesn't.

For example, it’s helpful to secure everything on a sailboat in case of capsize or knockdown. Loose items can become missiles flying around the cabin in heavy weather. It sucks to be pummeled by flying tomatoes while off watch in your bunk, almost as much as it blows being outside on deck getting whacked by flying fish.

It’s important to keep the boat well organized, so that you know exactly where everything is. Frantically ripping items out of lockers in search of the liferaft is not helpful when the boat is sinking. Telling thieves, who slipped aboard while you were sleeping, to hang on while you search for the harpoon to use to repel them, doesn’t work so well. Having to unload the all contents of every cupboard when you’re desperate for a hint of rum, but can’t remember where you stashed it, is dangerous to the well being.

Keep the toilet seat down when not in use, because when it crashes down and breaks the bowl in that accidental jibe, she’s not going to be impressed to have to crap over the side, especially in a crowded anchorage. And most likely, your boat neighbors won’t be thrilled with that either.

Replace all caps tightly. Having mayonnaise ooze over every item in the icebox is rather unpleasant. And after that boisterous sail across the bay, finding the head liberally coated with an entire tube of uncapped toothpaste is not only messy to clean up, but now there’s nothing left to brush your teeth with, unless you scrape it off the overhead.

Wash, dry and stow all dishes before going to bed, in case of squalls or uninvited guests. It’s no fun to slice open your feet on broken bits of crockery that have fallen to the floor after the anchor dragged and your boat crashed onto the rocks. And if thieves board in the night, having a clean dish off of which to offer them a snack could mean the difference between keeping your life and your boat, especially if you’re not sure where your harpoon might be stowed.

After you’ve washed those dishes, make sure to close the cap securely when finished with the dish detergent. Otherwise, the boat will fill up with soap bubbles in that massive downpour that caught you ashore at the local pub, reminding you that you left the hatches open.

These are just a few of the things that are important on a boat.

There are some habits that I’ve given up now that I’m a landlubber. I have finally stopped feeling around with my toes for the foot pump to get water to flow from the faucet. Before walking downstairs to the washer, no longer do I carefully wrap my dirty laundry in a sealed, waterproof bag, like I used to do when I lived on a boat at anchor, in an often futile attempt to keep my freshly laundered duds clean and dry on the dinghy trip back from the laundromat.

I’ve become lax, leaving the cap open on the dish soap. And although I still wash my dishes before retiring for the evening, mainly because the last thing I want to see first thing in the morning is a pile of dirty dishes, sometimes I leave them in the drainer overnight. After more than 20 years at sea, I’m losing my seaworthy habits.

What good habits do landlubbers have?



*As this disaster was deposited next to the first boat I ever owned, which was hauled out for a major refit, I was down below, deep into working on the engine. What drew me out to see what was going on wasn't the noise of the travel lift or the activity of the boat yard workers, but the smell. Weehaw! Nothing beats eau de fresh barnacles.

Tuesday, June 09, 2009

When Friends Converse

I was sitting with a friend of mine when his cell phone rang. “Yes, hello? Oh, hi.” To me, he says “It’s Darla.” (a mutual friend, whom I had seen while working in the house next to hers earlier in the day.)

To her: "Yes, the party is starting, come on over. What? Ok.” To me: “She says to tell you she’s impressed; that she saw you working like a Trojan today.” Pause. To her, while looking at me: “You mean like the condoms? But they don’t always work….”

Wednesday, June 03, 2009

And it was all yellow


What’s all yellow, you may ask, if you live in the arctic or in a walk-in cooler or some other highly frozen place. If you live in a place that has spring, you know what’s all yellow. Absolutely everything. My dog is yellow. My dark green car is all yellow, inside and out. I’m all yellow, inside and out. Even the water in the harbor, which is moving water that flows with the tides, is all yellow. A sailor on a boat coming up from the Caribbean reported hay fever attacking his vessel while it was still 100 miles offshore.

I try to move slowly and carefully, because if I'm disrespectful, marching through the yellow particles in a rush, they gang up into an angry yellow cloud, which smacks me with a sneezing fit. When I am assaulted, there's not much I can do but lie down, lie still, and try ever so hard to breathe, just a little.

But yellow is unbreatheable. With a brain full of yellow fuzz, I can’t think or reason or comprehend how to complete the most fundamental tasks. I can barely keep my itchy eyes open.

I've heard of rose colored glasses, but really, isn’t a yellow tinted world just a bit over the top?

I love spring. It’s my favorite time of year.

No, really, it is.