Winter Weekend

The holiday decorations are put away. The thrill of the new year has settled into "here we go again." It's cold and sunny, but there is no snow on the ground. We sit in front of the fire, watching Sunday Morning, reading the papers. John has his New York Times and I read my favorite pundits in the Washington Post. John is planning a lamb roast with root vegetables. The plants are watered and trimmed, the shelves in John's office are organized, the laundry is done and the bills are paid. Sounds ideal? It should be, but I'm at loose ends. I sit just waiting...waiting for the the weather to warm, so we can return to weekends on the water. I know it's silly. There are museums to tour, art to appreciate, restaurants to linger at, live theatre to see, and shopping to enjoy...and we do, but it's not the same as waking to the sun pushing through the companion way as water birds call across the water. It's not the same as coaxing the sails to catch a light breeze as we head home after a night or two on the hook across the Bay.