In one week, we begin our sailing life. J-bird has her name emblazoned on the stern and she's got a lovely marine blue coat of bottom paint. Her hull above the water line has been waxed to a mirror shine. She goes into the water on Monday.
We succeeded in putting a trunk full of equipment and supplies on the boat in March, only to learn from our broker in a moaning and groaning voice that the shipwrights were going to tear the interior apart to install the fans, electronics and anchor wash tubing. Now everything is scattered about, buried among tools, cushions and hoses. However, in the true shopping spirit, we've continued to acquire the essentials -- everything from sunglasses to binoculars, bedding and wax for the deck. Our small trunk is, once again, full to the brim and the dinghy and outboard motor for it are still sitting in the guest room along with charts, a Chesapeake Cruising guide, Chapman's, knot books, and cook books for boaters. My sister generously returned the ones I gave her years ago--she heats more than she cooks.
We can't get all this stuff on the boat until the outfitting is complete and she is sitting in the water. Last weekend, we managed to install our federal id numbers above the door to the aft cabin on the inside. The regulation 3" numbers MD 3922 BX are firmly displayed and painted over with polyurethane. The feds require that the numbers be attached in such a way that if they are removed, it will be obvious.
As we wait for j-bird to be readied, we attended three different courses offered by our marina -- one on safety, one on diesel engines and the last one on navigation. We are ready! We've even carried the boys up the ladder (j-bird sits on sticks right now) so they could walk around her to get acquainted the environs. Fred immediately scooted down the companion way stairs, circled the salon, plopped down on floor and sighed, glad that he was home. This is a good sign. JoeJoe found j-bird to be a curious and strange place. He sniffed and scurried everywhere, never reaxing. Luckily we've got doggy life jackets so he'll float until he calms down and gets the idea of living on the water.
Back at the condo, we are preparing to remove the vertical living room and bedroom blinds that close across sliding glass doors. They'll soon be replaced with graceful draperies that complement the soft gold walls. We're also getting estimates on a built-in bookcase for John's office. He's been working for FedEx for three years (my how time flies) and instead of retiring again, he's staying. He's been promoted and is starting to travel more. Guess he can't say no to such a good thing. I'm still working as an independent communications consultant here in DC. The good news is that I approval to to take Friday's off for the summer and fall. More time to sail. It's been a good month for both of us. Hooray!
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Friday, April 2, 2010
Cherry blossoms
I escaped from work at one to join John, my New York buddy, Carol and her daughter Allison who now lives and works in DC, for lunch at a favorite restaurant, Zaytinya's. It's at Gallery Place, on 9th across the street from the National Portrait Gallery. Refreshed and replenished, we made our way downtown to the Mall where crowds milled about walking, trailing after kids, pushing babies carriages, lunching and lounging on blankets, and biking. From the sky, they probably look like a million ants scurrying about. We were the ants with the determined march to the south east and the Tidal Basin.
The weather today could not have been more perfect -- little humidity, high 70's temperature and a light, but fresh breeze. As we closed in on the basin the crowds became throngs and started closing in around us. But we pushed on, taking deep breaths as we scooted around the unending picture taking. We even joined in.
As we continued to make our way around the basin past the boat dock, Carol reminded us about how few people there were when, a few years ago, we came for our walk at 8 in the morning as the sun peaked out above the trees. We heartily agreed that our timing was not the best, although the weather was. Both Allison and I were reaching our "people pushing limit".
We'd been walking an hour when we finally settled on the steps of the Jefferson Memorial to give our legs a rest and discuss our options to avoid some of the crowds. Carol, always at the ready, pulled out her handy visitor map. Allison circled all the metro stops within striking distance and we analyzed each as if the president had ordered the most effective and efficient decision from our little team. There was certainly enough brain power, degrees and analysis experience among us for the job.
And succeed we did -- we stood, adjusted sun glasses, knapsacks and shoulder bags and set off down the granite Jeffersonian steps. We strode around to the backside of the basin to where the path divides -- one fork going to the Roosevelt Memorial at the basin's edge and rimmed with cherry trees and the other fork going to a sidewalk, with fewer cherry trees, along the Potomac. Our decision was confirmed correct as we turned left and found ourselves pleasantly almost alone. Well, at least there were fewer fellow walkers to contend with as we walked north to the Memorial Bridge that butts up again the Lincoln Memorial. We could hear each other talk so we had a find time chatting about the origins of polo which, I believe, is still played in that area occasionally.
By the time we reached the bridge, John declared a rest stop in the shadow of the great bronzed and gleaming lion that guards, with his brother, the entrance to the bridge. John wiped his sweaty brow and cleaned his sun glasses while Allison and I did a few leg stretches and Carol mused about sweets with a grin on her face. In minutes, we were walking again into the setting sun with the Custis home in view, headed toward the Metro stop in front of the Arlington Cemetery.
We're home now. Windows are wide open. Breezes continue to blow freshly as the sun sets leaving a pink sky, a sailor's delight, behind. John sleeps on the couch, recuperating from our venture around the Tidal Basin. Tom Jefferson continues to overlook the visitors taking in the blossoms in the evening air. A petal snow falls lightly now and then. The special time will be over in just a few days.
The weather today could not have been more perfect -- little humidity, high 70's temperature and a light, but fresh breeze. As we closed in on the basin the crowds became throngs and started closing in around us. But we pushed on, taking deep breaths as we scooted around the unending picture taking. We even joined in.
As we continued to make our way around the basin past the boat dock, Carol reminded us about how few people there were when, a few years ago, we came for our walk at 8 in the morning as the sun peaked out above the trees. We heartily agreed that our timing was not the best, although the weather was. Both Allison and I were reaching our "people pushing limit".
We'd been walking an hour when we finally settled on the steps of the Jefferson Memorial to give our legs a rest and discuss our options to avoid some of the crowds. Carol, always at the ready, pulled out her handy visitor map. Allison circled all the metro stops within striking distance and we analyzed each as if the president had ordered the most effective and efficient decision from our little team. There was certainly enough brain power, degrees and analysis experience among us for the job.
And succeed we did -- we stood, adjusted sun glasses, knapsacks and shoulder bags and set off down the granite Jeffersonian steps. We strode around to the backside of the basin to where the path divides -- one fork going to the Roosevelt Memorial at the basin's edge and rimmed with cherry trees and the other fork going to a sidewalk, with fewer cherry trees, along the Potomac. Our decision was confirmed correct as we turned left and found ourselves pleasantly almost alone. Well, at least there were fewer fellow walkers to contend with as we walked north to the Memorial Bridge that butts up again the Lincoln Memorial. We could hear each other talk so we had a find time chatting about the origins of polo which, I believe, is still played in that area occasionally.
By the time we reached the bridge, John declared a rest stop in the shadow of the great bronzed and gleaming lion that guards, with his brother, the entrance to the bridge. John wiped his sweaty brow and cleaned his sun glasses while Allison and I did a few leg stretches and Carol mused about sweets with a grin on her face. In minutes, we were walking again into the setting sun with the Custis home in view, headed toward the Metro stop in front of the Arlington Cemetery.
We're home now. Windows are wide open. Breezes continue to blow freshly as the sun sets leaving a pink sky, a sailor's delight, behind. John sleeps on the couch, recuperating from our venture around the Tidal Basin. Tom Jefferson continues to overlook the visitors taking in the blossoms in the evening air. A petal snow falls lightly now and then. The special time will be over in just a few days.
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