Now What?

My fingers are cold and my nose is damp.  It gets chilly in Berkeley in the evening.  I’m sitting on the steps of the BYC picking up wifi in the ocean breeze.  brrrr.

I took the boat out finally with a neighbor who singlehands her tiny little 20-something sailboat.  We had a good time figuring out that to comfortably singlehand Bonita I will need lazy jacks, cleats in the cockpit for the jib sheets, about 4′ more line on the reefing line, and a cushion where my hip braces against the auxiliary fuel bin cover.  I also desperately want a dodger.  We plowed through a bunch of waves before I caught on that we were in 21 knots of wind.  “You JUST NOTICED?” she said.  It was the whistling rigging that made me think of it.

The water came directly over the bow into the cockpit.  I think an entire wave went into my right ear.  That dodger would bring a new level of comfort to the experience.  And isn’t that what aging is about – seeking comfort wherever it can be found?

The fridge stopped working a few days ago.  It reminds me that the electrical system, aka the snakepit, is in sore need of rewiring.  Might as well tackle it.  No point in waiting and putting off the inevitable any longer.

Oh, and I got my hair trimmed yet shorter,

with a straight razor this time.

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