The Anecdotal Life Part.42

The family, the boat, the final for my courses in Seamanship and Boat Handling, the shopping, the cleaning, the decorating are all looming large right now. Everything is at sixes and sevens. I opened "Pandora's box" by simply trying to get into the Christmas closet to find my son and his wife's stockings so I could send them off to California well in advance of the final. Oh well, Ha! This isn't your average Christmas closet. It's back, down under the stairwell and you bend more and more and more as you crawl in there. Naturally, all the heaviest boxes are at the back jammed under the last stair. All I wanted were two blue, handknit stockings made by an artist friend of mine. I figure what are my odds that it's somewhere easily reached.... pretty good right? Wrong. Last box in the farthest, darkest corner. Yeah, you're right; there is no light in there. Couldn't find the flashlight. Now all the boxes are in the living room that I had sworn to clean before I set things up. Once you open those things and you want to preserve any semblance of order, there is no choice but to begin. I am a wreck with sixty other things I needed to do. Like my boat for instance. It is " up on the hard" as they say and you'd think that was the end of my worries for the winter. I had to run up to Goose Harbor to get more sheets for the isinglass covers that were to be layered in the foc'sle for storage. I went to look at the boat. Guess where it is? Farthest back corner facing the bay and bordering the channel. I do have covers, but they are just for the flybridge. I can't afford shrink wrapping it to protect it and apparently shrouding it with tarp can be expensive and troublesome if ice collects in pools. However, there is my baby, stuck right out there in the wind and whatever. I am so grumpy!!
Copyright: December 1, 2006.

The Anecdotal Life Part. 41

I did say Sunday didn't I? The family needed to rethink all travel plans and shore each other up for the coming days. Before I forget, I wish everyone a happy Thanksgiving. Take care of yourselves and each other so that you have many more. Now, to the rest of the story of Choo Choo's Thanksgiving continued from "The Anecdotal Life Part. 40."
"A Beethoven symphony was playing. Miriam's favorite music meant nothing to him since his hearing aid lay packed in his dresser drawer. ( if we were lucky that's where it was) Nothing anyone said about it made any difference any more. Basically, whatever it was, he didn't want to hear it, but today his "philosophy" brought ruin. Furthermore, he had laid his teeth out carefully on his plate refusing to be annoyed by them until the last possible minute before the meal. Gram and Diane were ordinarily ready to scalp what was left of his fine gray hair for this habit, but today they were too overwhelmed with the last minute windup and flurry of the imminent feast to pay attention to it.
Jonathon, however, wasting no time, grabbed the cat's tail---poor creature had been strolling too closely by the pen hoping for an affectionate pat, but "God's mercy!"he found himself in a vise like clutch---bad enough for the crimp it was putting in his tail, but worse to come, he was being inexorably dragged into the playpen, one furry inch at a time. The cat looked beseechingly over his shoulder at Choo, but no help there. Jonathon was sitting triumphantly on Choo's stomach and hauling in cat's tail like so much line on a ship. The cat struck with desperation for his plight, suddenly stretched out, and in one long, swift, elastic motion snagged the lace edge of the tablecloth with his front claws. No one heard his initial cries as the music of Beethoven's fifth pounded through the room from the radio. Now the cat was truly on an elongated, irrevocable path toward destruction. Jonathon could not have envisioned a more wonderful extension to his plan. He paused for breath as Gram, Miriam and Diane, so intent upon the final gracing effects of the meal, never looking over the edge of the table, scurried back and forth, placing the huge turkey dead center among the many aromatic side dishes, honeyed yams, mounds of mashed potatoes erupting with little rivulets of fresh melted butter, dripping boats of brown gravy and volumes of heavily sauced and spiced vegetable, jams, pickes, and relishes, all exuding their various exotic odors. These delicious sights, the quick, happy tinkling sounds, the monumental music were all to come to a not-so-musical, but at least gigantic conclusion. Choo, himself, had tried to howl and warn everyone, but everytime he began to suck in a little air, Jonathon lifted his small rump and came down again with a whap, knocking all wind and thoughts of salvation out of him.
Meanwhile the doorbell rang for incoming cousins, aunts and uncles--adding to the cacophony and general hubbub. Now Jonathon knew with his usual perfect timing that he could complete his plan.
He began to yank and pull the cat in deadly earnest. The cat began to screeching horrifically. Beethoven's fifth was pounding to it's stunning climax. Choo finally found air to roar. Gramps woke up to see his place setting, as were all the place settings, sliding to their extinction in a tumbling fury of cat, crystal, hot gravy, and flying ParkerHouse rolls. At first, Gramps thought he was having one of his mild strokes; then he thought he'd better at least pretend to have one, if Diane knew he had done nothing to prevent this particular demolition derby. The turkey was racing for the edge as the tablecloth hit a snag. Jonathon gave a mighty final jerk, catapulting the bird straight through the pantry into Diane's astonished arms. Jonathon, then, deftly pitched Choo out of the play pen on top of the cat to perfect the scene. Diane and Miriam had to be restrained physically from strangling Choo. Much later, Gramp's teeth were found firmly sandwiched between two soggy rolls under the pretty much flattened cat. Ultimately, Choo having been sent to his room, privately rejoiced in the peace and quiet at whatever price. The cat wasn't much good after that, skulking in corners, snarling at any simple shadow that flitted past.
But Jonathon! Jonathon thrived and continued merrily onward as his crimes became more complex, far more sinister and his mental and physical powers formed and gathered even more strength.
Copyright: November 22, 2006

The Anecdotal Life Part.40

My class in Seamanship is overwhelming me right now and the family is circling is the wagons for my sister Ann. I may have to go to Michigan at any time. However, it's not like I don't have writing to share. So here is a story I have written that is intended for ages 6 to 20 or any adult interested in family celebrations. We've had some beauts. This one is called "THE BRAT IN THE HAT COMES BACK". I have used my nephew to spin off of in this series. I have written about 38 now, I think. This, I think was no. three in the series. Choo choo, the real choo choo, is at present over-using and stomping around on a new knee he just had installed up north in Michigan.
"Come November, Miriam brought in Jonathon on a snowy Saturday morning all bundled in innocent blue. His little blue hat framed his plump smiling face...but it was that smile! It slid round and veered toward Choo as he stood rooted to his spot in the dining room door. Oh, Choo knew that smile! It didn't just spell adventure--adventure he could have stood. Impending doom was another thing altogether.
Thanksgiving preparations were boiling around behind him. He'd been underfoot eighteen times already, wanting to taste, smell, and stretch to see. Some kind of brown monster was sticking up in the oven window getting it's terrible reward.
Jonathon slid down from his mother's arms with a sigh of satisfaction bordering on the macabre. It was odd to see such a young child rubbing his hands together in hearty anticipation. Miriam and Diane laughed lovingly down at him, foolishly supposing he was looking forward to another meal. Choo, his panic galvanizing him, did 90 for the broom closet, because he knew it was someplace he could hide. Gram , however, nailed him on route saying," All right young man, that's the last trip through this kitchen!" and she hoisted the wriggling fatness of her grandson to her ever handy hip. In a few seconds flat , he had been deposited in his playpen which had been erected in the dining room next to Gramp's chair. It was always there, just in case such a moment would arise and somehow they were always arising. "Perfect", said Miriam, tossing a delighted Jonathon on top of the now despairing Choo. Jonathon patted Choo's hand as if to say, " now really old man, would I hurt you?" Choo sighed and grabbed his beleaguered old comforter. He, when no one was looking, would sometimes chew the corners for solace. Gramps shifted in his chair nearby, snoring audibly. He had come in to take an early seat at the table, tottering into the dining room, settling his fragile frame in a place laid out with even more fragile china and crystal."
Now I am going to a finish this Sunday in blog no. 41 so watch for it. In the meantime take care.
Copyright: November 17, 2006

The Anecdotal Life Part.39

Coming to terms with the terminology in the boating world can be maddening..and funny. My GPS course that started Tuesday night following the Seamanship class the night before, threw the usual blockbuster tsunami of information in my face. Just as I was getting to my feet knowledge wise in the Monday course too. Ah, well.
Here's some samples. The captain/ teacher gave us an hour's worth of GPS history, while pitching in phrases such as "ephemeris data" from satellites. When I could get up the courage to satisfy my all too ample supply of curiosity, I raised my hand. He looked shocked anyone might want to know what ephemeris meant. He was curt. " position", was the reply. I guess getting position from a satellite would be ephemeral. Meaning, I supposed, the minute you get it, it's not true anymore, but it may keep you from whamming into a few landmarks, Oscar Freem's Marina or land itself. There's a lot of things to run into on the Chesapeake. There is an unsettling disclaimer on Garmin handheld GPS which states emphatically that pinpointing your position won't help worth a darn in dodging all the possible obstructions. Not meant to be soothing is it?
Here's a few other lines: "Vector Sum" is that Dim Sum's smarter brother? Azimuth came up again. I now have six definitions for it. The ninth wave came at me called " pseudo-random pulse code modulation".Then for good measure they threw in a hyberbola and Doppler effect. Oh, let's not forget the inertial characteristics of the earth itself. I am going to need a week in the Bahamas when this is all over. So will the captain who is mentoring me, my brother-in-law, various friends, and the lovely ladies at the Annapolis library. I am supposed to make a route from the Annapolis docks to the baybridge on the Garmin by driving there and entering the position. I hope they don't mind if I get the position from Hats In The Belfry store right next to the docks. How could that hurt?
Copyright: November 9, 2006.

The Anecdotal Life Part.38

Robert Frost , I think, wrote " When was it ever less than treason to accept the end of a love or a season." That is as close as I can remember it. The boat went " up on the hard" for the winter and I walked very slowly back to the marina office to turn in the keys. One comes down off the ceiling with a thump like the teaparty in Mary Poppins when the realization hits that the "party's over". True, I get to worry a little less about where the money is coming from to fix or fuel up the boat, but I finally understood why Eastport celebrates "sock burning day" in the spring, when at last the boats can come back into the water. This is the season for SAD, and even though to some degree I am one of those, I am also a lover of family. That will get me to the middle of January. Then I think one ought to have the wherewithal to make it to the south of France. South anywhere, even U.S.A. Maybe go visit my friend Elaine in North Carolina.
Right now however, I have a car loaded with all the stuff I was so certain I needed aboard the boat and a pocket full of memories.
Copyright: November 1, 2006.