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Women Who Change Their Mind

Three Strikes

Here I go again getting impatient because someone didn’t respond to my rant. So, instead of quietly ignoring the situation and leaving the ball in their park I threw another pitch. This brings me back to an old philosophy of mine.

Three strikes and I am out. Anytime I failed to do something on the first try I reminded myself to allow two more failures before changing my tune. This worked when sailing, counseling, and doing a domestic chore.

In sailing it was imperative to keep a roster of five for each race. My roster included up to ten. How many times did I call each person? No more than 3. I figured if someone didn’t respond after that they either didn’t want to say ‘no,’ or were too busy. I certainly didn’t want to be a nag.

In counseling I would allow three sessions to solve a problem. In the school system counselors rarely have time to engage in long term therapy. Hence the genre ‘brief counseling’ was coined. If after the 3rd session the problem wasn’t solved a recommendation another counselor with whom the student, parent, or teacher might want to consider meeting with.

In the domestic arena I was negligent. There were too many other things I would rather do. Domestics included dinner with family like those Thanksgiving traditions where everyone would sit around the table and overeat. Then, the men would plop in a cushy chair and fall asleep watching football on TV. The women talked about future plans, bashed the men or  gossiped. I probably tried a zillion of these experiences. Way more than three.

With relationships I always want to end encounters in  peace. Although it took me some sixty years to come to this position with my sister. I am thankful her and I have finally met in the middle. At the first inkling of a misunderstanding or annoyance we confront each other. Within a day or two we rehash until we reach a satisfactory understanding. In some cases we decide a topic is not one we choose to engage in. And, so it goes with my mate.

On another tack, when I want to turn an acquaintance into a friendship do I use the same baseball rule before giving up?  I think I will because just like calling a dear friend if they don’t return my calls after 3 attempts a voice shouts in my head, “Quit being a nudge or an annoyance, they will call when they are ready.” Current score is two to none.

OOOOOOOO, I almost forgot between now and my birthday a hiking friend, Polly, and I will attempt to climb our first 14er. If we fail, do we try two more times then give up?

Happy Trails

 

 

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)…

 

 

Standing Waves

fullsizeoutput_2bfbViewing the Spanish Peaks Mountain Range, from our loft window,  there was relief knowing I am not as far from sailing the great oceans of our world as I once feared. The old downhill ski resort clearly shows the trails of a once thriving playground for winter sports.   From about 15 miles away the scenery is a reminder of how I connected sailing and surfing to skiing during my two years on the slopes of New Hampshire.  The drudgingly slow and breathtaking steps when hiking up a mountain has some semblance to sailing upwind in a stiff blow when it is 2 am and all you really want to do is  climb into your bunk. To get that extra 1/4 knot of speed you crank the winch. Your inner voice repeats a common refrain, “just keep moving, slowly and steadily, you are almost there.” 

Unlike the rise and fall of the ocean’s swell the mountains are solidly held in place or so it may seem. The earth is in constant motion. It perpetually  spins on its own axis while traveling around the sun causing winds, currents and temperatures to change. Inevitably this results in the evolving landscapes around the world. An earthquake is an example of how pressure from deep beneath the earth’s surface creates one of the most wondrous and destructive forces, illustrating the ever-changing motion of mother earth. 

In this manner, it can be argued that those majestic snow-capped mountains seen outside my upstairs windows, are not static. Rather, due the the earth’s vibrations,  they can be considered standing waves whose movement can only be detected by a sophisticated seismograph. In contrast,  sailors and surfers expect a wave to continue its path. Without warning about the second the wave is expected to crest, it seems to pause, leaving the boat or surfer hovering in curious wonderment before the wave returns to its destined crash  into a thunderous roar.  

Do the waves actually stop moving? Do the mountains really move? Or, do I just need to rationalize my new lifestyle 2000 miles away from the ocean’s door?

Residing myself to, never mind

Here I go changing my mind again. Up until I read a comment for a long time sailing friend I had convinced myself to sell my 17 foot trimaran.  It is such a user friendly craft. Then again, living at 7000 feet in southeastern Colorado makes me wonder if the sailing vessel can with stand the cold. What will happen to the structure of the boat. The motor, too will have to live outside in freezing temperatures for months at a time. The hulls are molded plastic like the popular kayaks. Guess I’ll do some research.

Tomorrow I will be car shopping to allow me to tow my boat. So, why get rid of it? What heck am I thinking?  Buying a house without a garage in snow country doesn’t make much sense especially knowing it will be the end of summer 2018 before the garage is built. Considering that Ron’s house hasn’t sold, maybe we should stay here all winter. I don’t know what I want.

Some days I tell myself to just stay home and get on with writing my tales of woe. Other days I long for the wind in my hair, the camaraderie on the water, and the exhilaration of a day of fun in the sun. Is this really a reflection of my being a gemini? The ying and the yang. Why can’t I be like others who know what they want. Why can’t I focus my thoughts to write a coherent story?

One thing at a time, let me get the car capable of towing. Then, consider towing it to Cedar Key for a week of sailing with like minded folks. Putting first things first that makes sense. Though busboy (VW beetle convertible) is a fun car to drive and a joy to even look at, she just isn’t conducive for living in snow country and/or taking my little sailboat here, there, and everywhere.

After two hours of just messing around on Facebook, writing this blog, and avoiding exercise, it is time to stand up make a plan for tomorrow. Price shop cars, , , eat a nice veggie omelet for breakfast, work out, go to the museum, then car shop and lastly, visit the genius bar at the Apple Store. It does help when I blog in a quiet ranting, non critical way. Thanks to any and all who read and/or send me feedback.

       sasseasails@gmail.com

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