Stream

Last weekend our marina community was frantically securing boats in preparation for a possible visit from Hurricane Ike.....this weekend we watched in pain as our neighbors in Texas faced the full force of the storm, and we searched the TV for small victories behind the weather channel reporters...the boat still at anchor in a storm tossed harbor, the sloop in the flooded parking lot with its rigging intact, boats upright on the hard in a debris-strewn marina.....

Four days ago it looked like I'd be able to stay here in the Keys through Christmas....three days ago the depositions were rescheduled and now it looks like I'll be out of here and in Orlando by Halloween....

I went sailing with a friend on Moon recently, the hull scattering crisp white sheets of foam across the tops of the swells as we slipped along over and under the crystal blue, and she told me it was fun to be sailing on a small boat for a change....

Blood on the highway has an unreal but unmistakable color, like fluid spilled from a leaky transmission, only transmission fluid soaks into the pavement a whole lot faster....

Iggy the Iguana, a ancient but healthy five-footer with an impressive beard, perched himself high on a mangrove limb and watched with obvious amusement as I clambered through the tangle, wrapping chain around the trunks and prop roots to secure our boats to the only really secure part of our little island home....

We went sailing on my friend's boat today and now I understand what she meant about the difference between a big boat and a small one.....She Breeze soaked up the ocean swells with an easy grace and massive patience....

We put the initial budget together for the new job last week....hundreds of millions of dollars that right now are just numbers on a page, numbers that will soon be transformed into three years of sweat and dust and then, in a day, when the first kid walks in for help, a hospital.....

A person can be entirely oblivious to the effects of a lifetime of unfortunate choices and hard circumstances until one day when a chance encounter reveals a beautiful bright world of previously unknown possibilities. Give someone you don't know some Wendell Berry or Sharon Olds, and don't look back to see what happens. You probably don't want to get involved.

Katy's snoring on the couch....I've got to leave the house at 3 am for a 6 am flight out of Ft. Lauderdale in the morning, and she's the one sleeping. Learn to learn from the good examples in your life, brothers and sisters, because they are all around out there...we just take need to take the time to look.

I love you. Good night.

Storms & Excitement

Wow - it has been a fun and exciting couple of weeks here with the turbulent tropical weather we've had, and although it looks like we may get some more excitement the next few days we're likely to dodge the bullet again...Fay and Hanna gave the upper keys a glancing blow, and Ike's probably going to stay well south of our little island home as well, which is good for us but really bad news for the poor folks down in Cuba. I hope the mountains there knock the energy out of it and they are spared a full hit. Here in Key Largo the forecast is for tropical storm force winds Tuesday and Wednesday and a 2-4 foot surge if Ike stays on the projected track. We've gotten the boats in the marina secured as well as we can....thanks in large part to the patience and expertise of the seasoned members of the marina community. I'm leaving everyone here to ride out the storm, and heading out for Orlando tomorrow with Katy because I've got meetings there all week (work, work, work, work, work.....). It sucks to have to leave.

I'll check in later after the storm's passed with pictures and stories from the tie-up process.....

The August update

Hey kids....long time no post, I know, but in my defense it is summer, after all, and I've been busy and lord knows this blog ain't never been known for the regularity of its updates. So, all that being said, what a summer it's been!


First there was the trip with Dad and Judy on the new boat ,then the annual Spellman retreat at Niobrara where, in addition to the great conversation, cold beverages, good food, and tranquil scenerey, thanks in great measure to Connie and Rick's extreme grace and tolerant natures I got the opportunity to nurture my inner child for a couple of days playing with Ms. Teagan and running around and cruising the dirt roads on the scooter with Roan and cousin Max (you guys ROCK!)

Next came a chance to hook up with Jim 'n Deb while they had a long layover at MIA on their way back home from vacationing in Peru (thanks for the stories and the salsa tamarindo!), and then a couple of days swimming, sailing, eating, running, and riding bikes with Roan and Pat when they came down to the Crazy Cave. And to top it all off I was able to play hooky from work last Monday and go play in the rain and ride out trop storm Fay on the boat with a friend.

All of this is very cool stuff for an old knucklehead, brothers and sisters, very cool stuff. Thanks to all of you for all the memories!

And.....although I didn't take many pictures of these events, I'll follow up later with a link to the Flickr site where I've uploaded a few shots.


See you next time.......

Piccata

Wow.....I had dinner last night with a friend....a beautiful, warm, bright, and funny woman I've known for a while from a safe distance...and, although it took a while for the butterflies in my stomach to settle down, it was rejuvenating to have fun with someone in the kitchen again. We laughed our way through making a piccata with shrimp and scallops, and enjoyed it with a nice green salad, some roasted asparagus, a few glasses of wine, and some lively and engaging conversation.

Life is good, brothers and sisters, life is good. Carry on!

etc., etc.

It's summer time in the Keys again, boys and girls, which means that people are drunk and people are screaming.....and the crabs are on the move again....I woke up yesterday morning to two big mommas trying to get out (yes, OUT, that ain't a typo) through the sliding glass door and one trying to get in....saw several in the yard this morning, and Katy scared one out of the grass in the neighbor's yard while we were walking a little while ago.

And, in other news, Zeke recently posted some photos from the wedding and honeymoon cruise.....here's a link....it's hard to capture the feel of an event like a wedding but these snapshots do a good job of telling the story.

Katy and I spent the weekend putzing around on Moon, putting in a new battery charger, swapping out one of the old bilge pumps for a new one with an automatic float switch and rigging it with a hot lead from the battery so that if the bilge fills with water it'll come on whether or not the breaker panel is turned on, and scrubbing the gel coat and polishing what turns out to be several miles of stainless tubing on the bimini frame, lifeline stanchions, stern and bow pulpits, swim ladder, etc. etc. etc. Like I said before, it's summer all of a sudden here, and between the sweat and the skinned knuckles I must have lost about ten pounds.

The marina that Moon is in now is a really Keys-ey place.....there are some pirate types that live in an asssortment of mostly derelict fishing boats on the west end of the cove, there's an underwater hotel up by the entrance, and a not-for-profit organization maintains and rents the slips in the middle to help fund their let's teach kids about marine biology program. There are also a couple of really good people that live on their boats there - a Sea Tow skipper and his wife and kids live on a houseboat directly across the floating dock from me, and a diving instructor lives on her Morgan Out Island 41 at the end of the pier. And there are several weekenders like me......and everybody there seems to have a great sense of humor, which is something that came in handy when I was trying to dock Moon the first time...Moon doesn't back up very well ( the guy I bought her from said "she backs up like a drunk elephant" and after trying to back her into her slip I know what he means!). The Sea Tow skipper ended up having to crank up his rescue boat and push me into the slip, with the entire marina crowd looking on, of course - after I fouled the mooring line on the adjacent boat but before I rammed into the fifty-footer tied up in the slip next to mine. That boat is a whole 'nother story....folks in the marina have a pool going as to when it's gonna sink (it's literally held together with baling wire, twenty-year old caulk, and a colony of termites that are all holding hands) - apparently I would have made somebody's weekend if I had rammed it and sent it to the bottom.
On the bright side, the entrance canal to the marina is very narrow, and although in places there was less than a foot to spare on either side we didn't scrape any paint of the boats along the way coming in. I can't wait to try that with a stiff crosswind!

I also spent some time refining the "to do" list for Moon today, moving the rebuild of the head to the top of the list and also adding checking out a nasty stress crack in the fiberglass around the backstay chainplate....

And, I got the guitar out and played for a while last night for the first time in a looonggg while - thanks for kickin' down the Big Daddy Love CD, bro - it's inspirational!

So, all in all, this was a fine weekend, and I'm feeling rested, ready and refreshed for another fun-filled week at work.

And speaking of the work front, it looks like I am gonna do one more project before heading out on The Trip, and it's not going to be the Nursing School project I've been sort of half-heartedly looking after for the last couple of months - we recently got the contract on a children's hospital in Orlando that should be interesting and a worthwhile way to make a living while I get Moon ready for The Cruise.....here's a link to a brief story about the project. This is an interesting job and I'm excited about the prospects, but it'll last about four years, which is two years longer than I wanted to have to wait before heading out........

But, it's bedtime now, and there'll be plenty of time later for studying on what to do about work and boats and such. So, good night, kids, and sweet dreams.

The Honeymooners

So....for those who don't already know the big news, Zeke and Judy tied the knot in a beautiful ceremony at the UU Fellowship in Auburn a little over a week ago, and came down here afterward for a bit of a honeymoon cruise on Everlasting Moon. We took three days to bring the boat from Boynton Beach down here to Key Largo and had an awesome time....we motored down the intracoastal waterway through Ft. Lauderdale and got to see all the oh my god mansions and good lord amighty yachts along the way, got the snot beat out of us by 4-6 foot seas when we went out into the Atlantic at Port Everglades, spent a night anchored in Biscayne Bay with the Miami skyline backstopping a beautiful starry night, sailed a glorious broad reach out of the Bay and back into the deep blue sea......I wish you all could have been there.

Here are a couple of pics from the trip....


Judy making a sandwich while we're sailing through the Bay...



At Crandon Marina on Key Biscayne...

And here's Cap'n Zeke checking out the proceedings.

It's getting late now, so I've gotta scoot, but there will be more photos and stories to follow.

Good night and fair winds, friends.

The Next Chapter

Well now....it feels like change is in the air, brothers and sisters, and I am so ready to write the next chapter in The Crazy Chronicles. The specifics of the story line are still a little fuzzy for me, but the general theme is really starting to solidify, as you'll see if you decide to read on.....

I remember sitting in a nice little bar in downtown Denver on a chilly November afternoon about a four and a half years ago, talking to a friend and enjoying a few pints, rambling on about my dream of taking some time off and going sailing (yeah, I'm talking about you, Mr. Ellington - thanks for listening to me that day and reminding me about it occasionally since then). February 1, 2009 was the timetable I set for myself, with the belief that by then I would have been able to find a boat and set aside enough cash to take off.

And now I'm close to making that goal a reality....much closer today than I was as recently as 8 days ago because I have gotten The Boat. I have pored over internet ads for boats for the last two years, checked out the online sailing and cruising forums and badgered every sailor I've come across looking for info and opinions on what kind of boat would be right for my needs. For a while I thought I needed a big boat, 38 to 42 feet, with all the goodies. For a while I thought my Irwin 25 would do the trick - the accommodations would be spartan but I'd be one with the elements!

But all along the way I've thought back to a boat that Mikki and I looked at years ago....Frayed Knot, a 1979 Endeavour 32 that we looked at when she was back in Key Largo after making the big loop in Ruby Gene. It just didn't seem to be the right thing to do at the time, but many times since then I've wondered where we would be now had we taken the plunge then.....but it really wasn't the right thing to do at the time for either of us - I was totally immersed in building the hospital and she still had the traveling bug. Frayed Knot went to someone else and Mikki and I each went on doing our thing.

Two weeks ago I was doing my regular check of the Boat Trader to see if there were any new listings here in the Miami area - sometimes the new listings are 70' megayachts, sometimes they're derelict project boats, and most of the time they're the normal listings for nice boats that are just way out of my price range - when a new listing for a 1981 Endeavour 32 caught my eye. The price was right, the pictures looked good, and the boat was less than a two hour drive from Key Largo. So, I made an appointment to go see her, fell in love and bought her on the spot. Stoooopid, I know. Always make the deal conditional on getting a good survey by a professional marine surveyor and a successful sea trial, especially when you're buying an older boat like this. Ask anyone who knows about these things and they'll tell a dozen horror stories of people buying older boats and finding very expensive hidden problems later on that a survey would most likely have revealed.

But, prudence has never been my strong suit, especially when it comes to matters of personal finance or instant gratification.

I did a pretty thorough check of the boat, though. I'm no marine surveyor, of course, but I think I have a good feel for boats. The overall condition of the boat was very good, and the previous owner obviously cared about the boat and had done a good job of keeping up the ongoing and preventative maintenance. She's a stout, simple boat, well built and cared for, and being on her gives me a powerful sense of freedom and security. There are some things that need attention, and it will take a while to address of all of the odds and ends things that need to be fussed with and get through all of the equipment and systems that need repair, replacement, or upgrading before it will be safe to head out to the open sea with her. I'm planning to record the refit process here as I go, and look forward to comments and suggestions from anyone who wants to offer them. Also, for those who are interested, here's a link to an Endeavour owner's group website and a good review of the boat.

I'd still like to hit the February 1, 2009 date for heading out, but I'm willing to be a bit flexible about that. This is going to be a busy summer with the work to do on EM, the work I need to do to Reprieve, Zeke and Judy's wedding and the associated festivities and celebrations, etc. Getting her ready, getting familiar with her and her systems, and getting some experience and confidence in piloting a boat this size are more important than hitting an arbitrarily determined departure date.

And for a destination, right now I'm thinking about starting off with a cruise through the Bahamas, down through the Leeward Islands, across to Central America and Mexico, and then who knows?

So, 'nuff talking. It's show time! Here are a couple of photos of Everlasting Moon. (Click on a thumbnail and then click the "all sizes button"). Katydog and I spent a couple of hours on her today, cheking things out and taking a few snaps. Let me know what you think!

Hey Sweetie.....say hello to Mr. Vonnegut for me, OK?

Since I've lived in Key Largo I haven't ridden my bike nearly as much as I did in Denver, mostly because there aren't as many interesting and scenic places to ride but partly because I'm a lazy-ass and can find things like not having much to look at while I ride to use as an excuse for not getting on the bike. I ride a mountain bike, after all, and I miss the downhill thrills and panoramic views you get on the trails west of Denver, as well as the joy of being able to ride for miles totally isolated from car traffic on the Cherry Creek and Platte River greenways. Key Largo, in contrast, has one road - US Highway One, known here in the Keys as the Overseas Highway - and it's a loud and busy dead flat straight line four lane with strips of restaurant and retail shops on both sides punctuated here and there with short stretches of untamed coastal hammock. Which isn't the most visually captivating environment to ride in - the beauty of the hammock, which is made up mostly of mahogany and lignum vitae trees, is hidden by the litter strewn mass of strangler fig and privet that lines the edge of the bike path, and once you've seen one tacky tourist shop or fake pirate themed restaurant you've pretty much seen them all. The other option is to cruise the neighborhoods off US1, which are nice and shady, but since the island is only about a half-mile wide at best and there are only a couple hundred yards of solid ground on either side of the highway in most places the diversions into the neighborhoods are very brief. Which means the only place to get in much distance is up and down the asphalt bikeway that parallels the highway.

So, in order to make my rides as interesting as possible, nearly every time I have ridden down here I've headed for a place where there are boats to look at. My house is only a couple of blocks from US 1, and three miles south, in "downtown" Key Largo, there are a couple of marinas where there are always sailboats to look at and two great places to be able to stop and gaze out on the ocean or the bay. Normally I head up Sound Drive to US 1, hook a left onto the bikeway and pedal past the State Park and K-Mart to Jasmine Drive, which leads down to Key Largo Harbor Marina where there is always a nice assortment of boats of various sizes and conditions in the yard and boats from all over the world tied up in the transient slips along the seawall there. From there it's about a mile through the Port Largo neighborhood to the marina at the Pilot House which also has lots of ocean-going sailboats and is the home port for the majority of what's left of Key Largo's commercial fishing fleet. It's always cool to watch the boats come in and unload the day's catch. On the way back I usually head down Marina Avenue to where it ends, right on the Atlantic with a million mile view out past the reef, suck in the ocean breeze and watch the changing kaleidoscope colors of the sea grass, sand and coral through the crystal-clear water in the shallows there at the end of the street.

All of which, of course, is great stuff for a dreamer and boat freak like me, and with a round-trip of about ten miles it's a ride that's just long enough to get a good sweat going and thrash out some of the frustrations and worries from work without pushing myself over the cardiac failure threshold.

That being said, for the last year or so I haven't had much of a desire to ride until recently. I've felt the lack of physical exercise as much as a longing for the joy of riding building up, so over the last month or so I've been riding at least once on the weekend, sometimes even on weekday nights, always taking the same route, down to the marinas to be in the presence of boats. And almost always thinking about work, or boats, or other details of my daily routine.

But this morning, after I had finally gotten myself out of bed, into a cup of coffee and onto the bike, I veered from the familiar path, turned right when I got up to US1, and headed north.

Three miles north of my neighborhood the highway forks at Garden Cove, with US1 narrowing down to two lanes and heading left and then north along the west side of Little Card Sound. The right fork is County Road 905, and it heads north, winding its way through the largest remaining stand of West Indies tropical hardwood hammock left in the US, ending up at the millionaire's enclave at Ocean Reef on the northern tip of the island of Key Largo. At Ocean Reef you can hang a left and take Card Sound Road across the bridge at the narrows between Card Sound and Little Card Sound and rejoin US1 at Florida City just south of Homestead.

I've come this way a couple of times on the bike but a while back swore I'd never do it again....the bike path ends at the 905 fork, and going north on US1 is suicide with the construction going on for the new bridge at Jewfish Creek and the road widening that's got the entire road torn up for the 18 or so miles between the bridge and where the road widens back to four lanes in Florida City. And taking the CR 905 fork is equally as dangerous because it has absolutely no extra asphalt right of the white line for bikers to cling to for shelter from the folks speeding north toward Miami hoping that they can shave a few seconds off their trip home by taking this route instead of suffering through the traffic slowdowns on US1 associated with all the construction there......

But, today, for some reason, I took the right fork and pedaled up 905.

Most of the north end of Key Largo has been set aside in a pair of conservation areas - the Crocodile Lake National Wildlife Refuge and the Dagny Johnson Key Largo Hammock Botanical State Park - so there is no retail development and very little residential development. Just a long gently winding highway that's calm and quiet when there's no traffic and a white-knuckly nightmare when cars whiz by your elbow doing eighty-five.

When the state and some conservation groups started buying up the land in this area starting back in the '70's there had been some luxury residential / marina developments started, and one of the biggest was called Port Bougainvillea, a sprawling community that was going to have hundreds of houses and townhomes clustered around a central marina / restaurant / clubhouse complex with a boat basin and canal out to the ocean. Most of the roads had been put in and the canal and boat basin had been dug and some of the townhouses and the marina / clubhouse building had been started when the area was put aside as a preserve. The entrance to the development has been kept as a parking area for visitors to the park, and the first half-mile or so of the entrance road is available for public access as a walking / biking trail. Beyond that, however, everything is set aside as preserve. There are hundreds of acres in this section that are more or less off-limits to the public unless you get a back-country pass from the State Park, but I've slipped past the gate a couple of times and ridden the dirt roads and trails back there. I think going back there was my intention when I headed north on 905, but by the time I got to the park entrance I had already fallen into the comfortable oblivion of a long ride and was thoroughly enjoying what has become a way too unfamiliar feeling of one-ness with the bike and the road.

I used to ride a lot. A whole lot. An almost obsessively whole lot. Starting when I was what, ten years old, maybe? And by the time I was about thirteen I had a Raleigh Grand Prix and could enjoy the freedom of being able to get on the bike and ride away from the neighborhood and into town or over to the university or out to the state park. It was on those first long rides I discovered that watching the paving whiz by under the wheels and feeling my arms, legs, and lungs adjust to the bumps and hills and headwinds can be hypnotic....the world disappears into a grey fog sixty feet ahead of the bike and all that you are really consciously aware of is the sound of your own breathing....there's a part of your brain that keeps track of traffic noise and such for survival purposes, but it goes about those tasks in the background, the way that your brain normally regulates your breathing when you're not on the bike and busy living in the busy bustle of the here and now. Daydreaming takes the place of thinking about the riding, and after a while, when the conditions are just right and you lose your conscious focus on everything, the daydreams fuzz out into just a smooth hum of nothing. Rider’s trance, I've heard it called. And that riders trance has, I believe, been my mechanism, my brand of meditation, I guess, for working out the worries, griefs, and phobias that have come with living a varied and adventurous life over the past thirty some-odd years. And I've had my share of shit to work out, as, I guess, we all have, although the details are different for each of us and we all have our own ways of working it out. Even those that end up on the nightly news dressed in a clown suit running down the middle of the road with a high-powered rifle shooting at streetlights and road signs are, in their own way, trying to work things out....but that's a story for a different day, right?

So, anyway, I found myself getting into a good rhythm in my ride up 905. The morning air here in the Keys this time of year smells like rain even when the sky is clear, and the sun, which was just starting to peek over the tree line, cast a warm yellow glow on everything but wasn't baking the highway yet. The traffic was fairly light, and I was starting to feel my focus changing, the sounds of the road fading into the background and the sound and feeling of my lungs filling my mind and taking over more and more of my awareness. In my mind’s eye the world faded into grey beyond my nose and elbows, and my mind travelled a million miles away and into a series of Mitty-like scenarios where I'm sailing off into the horizon on my new boat (which is another story but I need to finish getting this one out before I can get into that....). The occasional passing car would sort of bring me back, and when I'd start focusing on pedaling and glancing at the speedo I'd remind myself that what's important is the breathing, not the pedaling, forget about your arms and legs and focus on your lungs and pretty soon the meandering trail of daydreams will start again and after a while disappear into the grey.....and pretty soon I fell deep into that mindless rolling blur, totally oblivious to everything.......

I don't know how long I had been in that groove when I heard Mikki's voice, and saw her there in my mind's eye in her overalls and tank top, all big smile and blonde hair.....

Not long after my Mom died I saw her in my dreams at night. At first the dreams were almost identical - I'm sitting with her in a familiar place, talking about something unimportant, and she's alive and happy, smiling and talking, and then something happens to cause me to turn and look behind me, and when I turn back towards her we're back in her hospital room and she's gone, dead and quiet......

After a while the dreams changed, and I'd run into her in passing at the grocery store or in the hall at school, and she'd smile at me and tell me I was a good boy and not to worry because everything's going to be OK.

Losing Mom was a terrifying, isolating thing for me, but seeing her in my dreams so soon after she passed, even the scary first ones, was a comfort. When Grandpa Barden passed away it was the same, although in those dreams I would only see him in passing in a crowd, and it was always after he'd passed by that I'd get the feeling like, hey, wasn't that Grandpa Barden? But when I turned to look for him he was always gone. Every now and then I dream about seeing Grandma Barden, almost always surrounded by kids and always with smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye. And when I see Grandma and Grandpa Allen in my dreams there's always football and potato salad involved, although we don't do much talking......

I'm not a religious person, and I don't think that these dreams are anything more than that...dreams. The subconscious mind's way of sorting out things that have gotten twisted up deep down in your head. But they do give me a real sense of.....comnfort?

Mikki and I had a great, wonderful, complex, tormented life together. We couldn't stay away from each other and we both drove the other one nuts. And when Amanda called and told me Mikki was gone I couldn't believe it...it was too soon, we needed more time.....

And since that September afternoon there hasn't been a day that I haven't thought about her, about us, about what coulda woulda shoulda happened for her and with us. But every time I've started to have those thoughts I've had to pull myself back because I've felt like I was standing at the edge of a bottomless pit of hopelessness and despair and if I wasn't careful I'd get sucked down and never come back up. And not being able to really think about her and deal with all of the regret and sense of loss that I have has made it impossible for me to fully deal with this. I was a mess in Pocatello at her memorial, have been no help or comfort to Amanda or Laci since coming back to Florida, and feel like I've sleptwalked through my days wondering why things turned out this way...and, I think, I've been hating myself because even though I have pictures of her, and Katydog here with me, and RubyGene in the driveway, all providing constant reminders of her and who she was I have a harder time every day remembering the sound of her voice, her laugh, her clumsy, klutzy grace; but still, almost every day, there's something that happens to remind me of her and all of a sudden I'm right back on the brink of collapsing into that pit of gloom and despair and it has been impossible to find a feeling of peace about any of this. There are a dozen or more drafts of elegies to her that I've started and abandoned, attempts to use the keyboard to work out how I'm feeling or pay tribute to her or tell her life story so everyone will know, and without exception they have all been useless........I've tried talking to friends but can't stay composed enough to really think about what I want to say, what I've needed to say, and every time I've ended up just spouting a bunch of insincere superficial BS.

And no matter how much I've wished and wanted to see her again, for her to make an appearance again somehow, it hasn't happened, and god it has hurt to want that so badly and not get any glimmer of her in any way in any of my dreams.

But today, despite all that, I wasn't surprised to see her and hear her voice in the bright early morning sun, didn't feel anything other than a calm sense of comfort and relief to see her again. And it was brief, I think, like a dream, and writing this now I don't recall anything about what she said except the first words she spoke - "you do much better when you don't think so much, Bigdog" - and something funny at the end, before that dream world popped and the world of traffic and trees came roaring back.

I realized then that I was sobbing, pedaling like mad, nearly keeping up with an SUV towing a pair of jetskis ahead of me.

I also realize now, after seeing her face and hearing her voice so vividly, like in a dream, and taking the time to try to write down what I was able to take from the experience, that I've needed to know that what's important isn't just me letting her go.......what's really important is understanding that it's OK for her to have let go of me, of us, of this world, of all of the joys and pains and sorrows that were her life here.

And right now, although I can barely see the keyboard through the tears, I know everything's gonna be OK.

I love you, Sweetie. I'll see you in my dreams.

And, I promise, I will try to remember to wear my sunscreen.....

Piracy!

I should have known better. It was bound to happen, I guess, but I really thought it would be to someone else. I saw the odd looks when I just walked away without locking her up, you know, but what was there to lock her to? The sand? The water?

She was just gone when I got there Friday night, disappeared without a trace. There were three others still there that have been there all along. I loved that little dinghy. She was too small, too prone to getting punctured by the sharp rocks at the landing, and would absolutely refuse to track in a straight line when I was rowing her, but.......she was my first, and we had some fun and excitement together. I'll never forget the sight of her following us out of Angelfish Creek and into the Atlantic back in June....we were running for our lives from that evil squall, her painter grabbed hard to Reprieve's stern cleat, and every time I thought she was about to be swamped by the following waves she'd bounce right up and perch herself there on top of the wave. In my mind's eye I see her now, picture her like a little puppy, running hard, tennis ball in her mouth, trying to catch up.

So.....goddam scurvy dog pirates. Oughta feed 'em to the sharks or tourists if we find out who they are. One time before I had arrived at the landing to find her gone, but that just turned out to be kids staying at the motel next door had tried paddling around but gave up, apparently, and left her beached at a house down the way. I've asked around but nobody's seen her or has any idea who might have taken her.


I've been scouting Craig's list and the classifieds and the tackboards at the grocery store and bait shops to see if I can find another one, but no luck so far. If anyone out there in south Florida has a little dinghy friend that needs a good home, let me know, OK?

Feed the blog, bigdog......

Where does the time go, kids? It's already September and although I'm glad that it's football season and sailing time again it just doesn't seem right that this summer could have slipped away so quickly. I've slacked on the blog entries, obviously, but it seems like every time I've plopped my sorry ass down here at the keyboard lately my mind has been an absolute blank, and thanks to the burden of good role models I just cannot bring myself to post some lame-ass drivel just to be able to say I've kibbled the blog. I was complaining about this to a friend recently (who had just discovered that there is a bigdogblog) and of course she said "So, how do you explain the previous 70 entries here?" Good question. I'll, uhmmm, you know, get back to you real soon on that .......

But, nonetheless, a great summer it was all in all, and dadgum what is that itch oh hell here it comes I do feel the urge if not the obligation to just go ahead and start running downhill arms up head back start to let it out let it go put something down record all of the glorious sailing driving kissing sweating painting singing climbing cooking eating eating eating reading sleeping stealing looks out of the corner of my eye and apples from the end of the box adventures and heroic pursuits that happened to me and for me and everyone else I saw or didn't saw at Sibbyfest or Cranberry Lake or Vineyfig, Sunnyside, the doublwide or up in heaven on the bay and everyone up on the big rock candy mountain because the whole idea of this twisted blogation is to get it out there today right now damn hell what anyone thinks or even says about what I've done or what I've got to say or how I'm doing or saying any of it because it's not a matter of life or death and goddammit ain't nobody gonna starve or cry or have to stay out in the freezin' rain whether I do or don't bang this gibberish out or if I get divine inspiration from the Lord or the Muse or the youtube or wherever the angels speak from nowdays and stumble my way into saying something profound or crazy or both and bring love and joy to the Youth of Today that're all just out there right now, by Dog, you've seen'em I can tell by the look in you eye at this very moment, look around they're all searching for help and hope and happiness and if they don't wanna go to school tomorrow well then damn their hides bless their souls pass'em the biscuits and gravy and let's all of us just let them and us, yes US, all of us every last one just fall on into the old wooooooo-saaaahhhhhhhh and let it go let it go let it go, amen, ok?






Damn.

That feels better.

Gotta run.