You gotta’ know when to hold ’em
Know when to fold ’em
Know when to walk away
Know when to run
as song by Kenny Rogers
You gotta’ know when to hold ’em
Know when to fold ’em
Know when to walk away
Know when to run
as song by Kenny Rogers
In poker they say you have to know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em. In my life quitting has been absent. During one particular 45 mile race the wind died and before reaching the ten mile mark most of the sailors got towed to the finish line. My crew was not happy as I continually waved on the power boats offering to tow us. At 11 pm we crossed the finish line. The committee boat was long gone. When we reached the beach where the food had been served and the band had the crowd dancing to their favorite tunes, only two people were on the beach. It is nice to have these two friends greet us after twelve hours of listening to my crew whine about how ridiculous my decision was. For me, it was a win despite losing her as a crew for future races.
With my own aging and the death of my husband there has been a progression toward quitting. Why stress? To learn to set up a website as part of my choice to provide a service to my community I leaped at the chance to create their monthly newsletter. Then, they added the job of distribution. I have not enjoyed that part. Typing e-mails with a system that my internet service provides a constant challenge, then having to drive 40 miles to the Staples for copies, with a final task of sticking address labels and stamps on envelopes gets in my way. I wanted a job that could be done at home at my leisure, as producing the newsletter is.
Stupidly, I also offered to learn how to update their website. Talk about stress. Again I blame my poor internet service. ENOUGH! By the end of this month I will detach myself from that job. This will come after last night’s decision to no longer distribute the newsletter. I will continue to write and produce the newsletter until December 2017. Call me a quitter.
Compounding my stress is my choice to quit cruising. As I write this blog entry SPRAY’s new owner sits about 3 feet to my left. While he surfs the FCC regulations to transfer the Ham Radio and Single Side Band license from my clutches, I wonder how I ever came to this decision. The decision to to quit cruising? To become the mate of a tall, handsome gentleman who, like me, is not perfect? To become an unwed housewife?
Wow, what am I doing? Why am I doing this? Oh, never mind, I know why I quit cruising. Although until this moment I didn’t realize it was the same reason to quit spending so much time on the museum newsletter tasks. I quit because of the self imposed stress these situations caused.
Kenny Rogers would be proud that I learned the lesson he so eloquently sings. Yipe, I have finally learned when to fold ’em.
It isn’t everyday one meets an adventurous, cost conscious woman who chooses the life of a modern day vagabound. Unlike those classified as homeless, RV women own their own home and live in. They don’t sleep under bridges, in cardboard boxes of even homeless shelters. The RV women have income, sometimes work, and are self sufficient.
One woman who I recently met drives a big Toyota Tundra pick up. A truck of this size allows her to tow her 5th wheel mobile home where ever she dares to go. The national and state parks have become popular retreats for couples who want a free site. In exchange for the free site these folks are called camp hosts. Their responsibilities include collecting fees, moderating conflicts such as noise compliance and pet annoyances. They also keep the restrooms clean.
Private campgrounds also work out an exchange of work for rent free living. Such is the arrangement of my new found acquaintance. For more information about RV Women, the adventures of this particular gal, and the world in which she lives check out her blog:
ineffable – The essence of his voice at its best is an ineffable mix of prosaic practical advice and metaphysical exaltation.
prosaic – The essence of his voice at its best is an ineffable mix of prosaic practical advice and metaphysical exaltation.
exaltation – The essence of his voice at its best is an ineffable mix of prosaic practical advice and metaphysical exaltation.
inchoate – We see it inchoate in the incredible energy he displays.
corvette – Two months after the wreck, the British corvette Loch Glendhu dropped me at the island of Mauritius.
francs – Somewhere around five or six thousand francs for all I should need.
incommoded – The artificial lung could thus be lowered slightly below the keel of the boat and the divers could move horizontally and vertically without their work being incommoded.
conjugal holidays – Why would she die, not undersanding the importance of ‘conjugal holidays’ something I am beginning to appreciate.
boccas – The anchor was stowed on deck, the sails hoisted and Marie-Therese II set out towards the ‘boccas’ which open out into the sea opposite, Grenada.
fathoms – I dropped anchor in three fathomas.
Maxiton – Why had I never decided to keep a tin of Maxiton in the medicine chest on board?
draught – The draught will be as small as possible.
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