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7 Days til Departure

7b79e9fec06c4665f03abdce693460d7With an uncertain future, as it always is, coupled with aging I had to include a plan to see my sister and brother to celebrate all we are thankful for. Doing so on the proclaimed day the pilgrims and Indians had their infamous turkey dinner creates problems. This is especially true for my brother who would be taking a commercial airline to attend our little rendezvous in Florida. He lives in Poughkeepsie, NY. A compromise between him, my sister and me was easily reached

With 7 days til departure stressing me to get done all I need to do to have a more stressless time away from my home, I at least have a date for ending my Florida adventure. December 1 I will begin the 5, or 6 or 7 day drive back to SOCO. That is unless I get picked up by a pterodactyl bird who carries me away to a far away land.

 

 

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First Day of Chapter 7

If I divide my life into decades this is the 7th one. Years 1-19,  Decade 1, 20-29 Decade 2, 30-39 Decade 3, and so on. I know 1-19 encompassed more than a decade. For ease of reporting and keeping things themed in a consistent manner, I choose this format. That brings me to the start of Decade 7. With a birthday in June I am as a kid might say 70 1/4 years old.

Two weeks ago, I formally, seriously began writing my autobiography. Perhaps it is a memoir. I am slowly distinguishing the two genres. Either way, I am prompted by a coach, Ginger Moran. I found her online and we began planning last spring. Just as we were getting started and my overall plan for the book was melding. Ron, my life mate and love of my 6th decade, died. For the first time in our 6 years together he kissed me good night, smiled and went to bed.

In the middle of the night he had a snoring jag that woke me. I whispered, ‘Ron, you are snoring, really loud.’ I gently kissed his arm and fell back to sleep. In the morning he was dead. It was a Tuesday morning. Three weeks later I turned 70. My sister flew in to provide comfort and help me with what was to be our Appreciation for our new lifestyle and friends in Southern Colorado. I kept that theme but tendered it with a night to pay tribute to a wonderful man, Ron Ouellette.

Three months into my 7th decade I made a few decisions. One, I would attend a conference in Florida the week-end of Oct 5 – 8. Two, I would attend a gathering of small sailboat and kayak designers the week-end before Thanksgiving. Third, the week-end before that I would attend the Seven Seas Cruising Association’s Annual Gam. All three of these events are being held in Florida. In between these events I would visit family and friends who live in various parts of the state. From Everglades City, to Melbourne, to Jacksonville and even McAlpin I expect to be busy.

The only change in this plan is if I accept a cruising opportunity. I suggested I sail with a guy who wants to sell in 40 foot trimaran. He built it in 1992 in the same manner as my previous cruising boat, SPRAY. The designer is the same. I went so far as to offer escrow money with first rights of refusal. The cruise would be an opportunity for me to know for sure if I want to purchase the boat. Even if the purchase doesn’t work out, as he made decide to not sell, I might enjoy going for a cruise as I may return to the sea.

Regardless of what I do after leaving here on September 28, today marks the countdown to my next life’s chapter. What opportunities will present themselves? Do I want to be a cruising boat owner? Would I rather stay land locked, buy a Hobie 14 and travel the country regatta hopping?

What I know I want includes:  playing the ukulele, piano and the small wooden glockenspiel, writing my book, being kind, up keeping my house, staying in my pay as I go budget, and adventure, something that becomes an over riding passion to get back in shape, maintain my less than 120 pound curvaceous figure. All of these things while maintaining a relationship with family and friends are at the top of my daily routine. (Oh yea, there are dishes to wash, clothes to line dry, a van to organize, a car to protect, flowers to distribute to neighbors, and ,,,

 

 

 

 

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The Little Train That Could

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A friend from Everglades City, Judy, posted this comment in response to my last posting about changing WTF from its use of the f-bomb to an alternative mindset, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday. She stated:  A creative mindset for making a positive reversal in life’s endeavors!

After reading Judy’s comment I was encouraged to change my thoughts and behavior. It seems my mind has become scattered. My goal to write a memoir keeps slipping down the priority list. There are so many things to do. To seriously write I need a clutter free desk. I need my kitchen table to look like it is ready for a meal and not for an  array of photos to be sorted.

 I want my backyard to look more inviting with the trash can and air conditioning condenser hidden by a nice concrete wall, I want the deck in the front yard to be adorned with selected stones taken from other areas of my wooded 4  acre lot. I want to socialize with friends who are going out of their way to keep me safe to enjoy life’s little pleasures. Then, there are the daily OM lessons I subscribed to. For pete’s sake I need to take the time to learn what OM stands for. Lastly, I need to stop thinking about buying the 40  foot trimaran I have my eye on until I get more information about it.

While thinking about what to think about I went downstairs to warm up my cup of joe. Peeking out the kitchen window I saw the little wooden train my friends, Debbie and Richard, convinced me to buy for $5 at yesterday’s garage sale. Since I first read the classic book, “The Little Train That Could,” it has been a favorite. During my career as a school counselor I frequently read it to students of all ages. Now, that great symbol of encouragement sits right alongside my driveway leading to my door.

While staring at the primary colored train my mind did make a positive reversal. With a  few deep breaths I made a mental list of my priorities. First, tidy up my desk so I can spend two hours focused on writing my memoir.  Second, go outside to put more blocks on the wall. Third, experiment with a 60s hairstyle for tonight’s sock hop. Three things are plenty for one day. All else will wait until tomorrow.

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**For those interested in learning more about this classic “children’s” story, written by Watty Piper – pen name for Arnold Munk, I encourage you to do a google search. I was happy to know that “The Little Train that Could” is ranked along with Alice in Wonderland as one of the top 100 children’s stories.

 

 

 

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WTF #3

I get it; many, many, too many people have been dealt a handful of cards much worst than I can ever imagine. Yet, here I am after a peaceful day of sailing in Maine saying, WTF for the 3rd time.

Today’s welcomed sail was a gift, the kind of gift I treasure most. My friend Julie arranged with her friend Kathy to take us out for a sail. Kathy rowed us out to her moored Cape Dory 22 in an 8 foot rowing Puffin. A Puffin will make the perfect dinghy for my next cruising tri. Within a few minutes of readying ourselves for the afternoon sail we released the mooring line. It took 3 or 4 tacks to get out of Lowell Harbor. Then, for the next 3 hours we reached along Casco Bay.

Casco Bay has special meeting which brought a wave of sadness. The Friends of Casco Bay is the preferred charity for those who wish to make a donation in Ron’s honor. Lowering my head on the cabin sole I day dreamed of the stories Ron shared of his days sailing these waters.

Before leaving for the day’s sail I had learned of the growing fires in Southern Colorado, southwest of our comfortable cabin. Transitioning from Ron’s burial at sea to the tranquility of a long overdue sail was a welcome respite only to be interrupted by the notice of the evacuation order in my neighborhood.

Thankfully, Polly and Chris, our hiking friends took the initiative to take our van to a safer area earlier in the day. With the news of evacuation our neighbor, Carla called to ask if there was anything in the house I might want her to get. Suddenly without provocation I cried. The most sentimental of all my possessions ran to my frontal lobe. Before leaving for Maine to attend Ron’s memorial I  carefully placed a picture of Ron on the left side facing right. On the right side of the mantle was Danny’s picture facing left. The strategic placement of these two pictures resulted in their facing a treasure I placed in the middle of them. The exquisitely carved jewelry and token box Ron had our friend Richard make. was presented to me at my birthday party by Richard’s wife Phyllis. Inside the box I put the diamond ring Danny had given me so many years ago.

Now, long after day turned into night, I am calming myself, by writing this blog entry. All I can think is What the Fuck! I put Danny to sea in 2010. I put Ron to sea the other day. Today, the combination of everything thing these men provided me is wrapped in and around our comfy cabin home. A quiet salt box style house surrounded by desert terrain, juniper and cedar trees may go up in flames before dawn’s early light. WTF #3.

 

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Motivation Times Three

First, what motivates me more than an unexpected call to go skiing? In my present state of mind, not much else. Welcoming a new chapter in my life, skiing with friends, Simon and Krissy,  from our sailing past is remarkable…(Wishing Danny was here)

Second, what gratitude fills my heart with more than an unexpected call from a friend. Similar to me, she has crossed from one life style to another. Her reminder of the power of an ‘ant’ led me to copy the words to Frank Sinatra’s song “High Hopes.” If an ant can move a rubber tree plant, surely Max and I can move mountains…

Third, what sailboat intrigues me more than any other style than a try. Whether sailing my 17 foot Windrider or sailing offshore on my 35 foot Marples, tris are the way to go. Relatively fast and relatively flip over proof like my sailing friend Suky, we shall forever lust over these fine designs. Oh yea, what motivated me today was that I finally read a comment in which Suky reminded me of a typo. Need to change a prior post on Validation from listing to lusting…

If you believe in things coming in threes, well today was my day.

Cheers and please remember to provide me with feedback, check me out on facebook (can’t believe I am addicted to it) or zip me an e-mail: sassythesailor@gmail.com

 

 

 

 

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Or, Picture 2

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Sail in the Bahamas
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Sailing Vs Hiking: What’s the diff?

 

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Validation

About 8 years ago in the tiny town of Chesapeake City an aspiring sailor took the time out of her day to drive a long way to meet me at the dock. A stranger, a gal named Suky, who I read about wanted to get to know me.  Meeting Suky  was the first validation I received as a solo sailor. All my friends, family and colleagues knew of my adventure but it was Suky who made me feel accepted into the world of solo sailing.  Now that I am on respite from sailing it is reading about Suky’s adventures that keeps my dream of sailing alone offshore alive.

Another respected sailor is Sherry McCampbell. I remain in awe of her perseverance to stick with her goal to sail around the world. The days when Sherry and I walked the beaches of Indialantic, Florida are as vivid as if they are still happening. We jabbered with each sandy step. Sherry wanted and found a compatible mate, who she married.  Me, I took the solo route. And, then, I fell into lust over a man who still makes my knees shake when he smiles at me.

While Sherry and her husband Dave are now about halfway around the world, after six years into their ten year circumnavigation, I am learning the ropes of being an unmarried housewife, a fraulein, living at the rural, arid gateway to the Rocky Mountains with a man I adore. Admittedly I am somewhat embarrassed  that I have yet to finish my solo circumnavigation.  Reflecting on the morning Suky showed up at the passage between the Delaware and Chesapeake Rivers which substantiated my need to have someone else  belief that I have the ability to sail where, when and how I choose to navigate the world.

In my heart I know I will sail again. It is in my soul (and my budget)…

 

 

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Sailmeom.com

Found this website and believe it is worth sharing. Here is an excerpt that speaks to me. This is especially true after my soliloquy on Sea of Life Parts I and II which was posted a few minutes ago. How timely???

3) Know the difference between fear and anxiety.

After reading a really wonderful series of blog posts by a fellow sailor and therapist, I know that what I feel is actually anxiety.  Not panic-attack level, medication-necessary anxiety, just run-of-the-mill Jewish Grandma worry. Understanding more abouthow my brain works has been helpful. It hasn’t cured me,,,but perhaps reading up on how you feel can make a difference. By understanding what’s happening in your brain chemistry,You can let feelings pass through you and acknowledge them, and ultimately let them go in a moment of zen, or treat them professionally if necessary.

http://www.sailmeom.com/stories/2016/10/25/fear-anxiety-boats

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