Monthly Archives: April 2012

~ Tempestuous Seas ~

My Captain and Cupcake and I went sailing yesterday.  I am not a sailor by nature, but I am learning as we go.  I’ll show you what I see, and you can appreciate the learning curve ahead of me.

Firstly, and one of my favorite parts, is the disrobing.

I love that part.

Then there is the prep-work at the dock.  There is a lot of rope movement, thinga-ma-bobbies and what’s-a-doodles being turned and flipped.  It’s all very impressive to a nobody like me.

And lots of bicep flexing.  Apparently, to be a good sailor, you have to be able to do a lot of bicep flexing.

After all that work is done, the motor is turned on, and we have to navigate out of the harbor and into the open waters.  We have to go slow, which takes a while, and we don’t have the sail up at all during that.

There are so many other boats around…it is very crowded in Annapolis…that you have to be a pretty good driver…er…pilot…to get out of the harbor unscathed.

And good God! Don’t forget to bring up the bumpers!

Hey! No sitting!  The prep-work isn’t done yet!!  Get up, Swabby!

We have drinks to chill!  Get to it!

Ah…the sails are finally up, and we sail out of the channel…

“Hydrating” along the way.

This is about the time I start hearing the Old Spice Commercial jingle in my head.

The wind is at our backs, the open waters and Chesapeake Bay Bridge before us.  Life is good.

And then…

(Insert music from “Jaws”, here.)

Hmmm.  The wind indicator shows movement ahead.

AUGUGGGGGGHHHHH!  (from a girly girl voice…oh wait…that’s me!)

The wind picked up out on the Chesapeake Bay.  We started MOVING, man….and NOT at a flat angle.  We are seriously listing.  Pumping through the waters at something like Mach 5.

And then….

It stopped, as quickly as that.  One minute we are flying at a 45%angle across the bay, and the next, we’re in the doldrums.  Weird.

Open waters can be as fickle as a pre-pubescent girl.  You can quote me on that.

Cupcake and My Captain work very well together on the boat.  They understand the water and the wind and the physics behind the movement, and how to manipulate everything so that we get where we want to go.  And when they work together on rough seas, everything is smooth and efficient. As a crew, they are like a well-oiled machine. It’s a pleasure to watch.

I have my own job, though.  I’m told it’s vital…essential to the rounding out of the crew.  I take pride in my job, and I do it well.

I hold the ropes down.

They tell me I’m the best rope-holder there is.  I knew my massive girth would serve me in life somehow.  I’ve finally found a good use for it. I am going to add “Master Rope Stabilizer” to my resume, now.

Yep, a well oiled machine.

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mamaboe's avatarMama Boe

So we’ve got these cats, as I’ve mentioned before.  One of them, Gracie, is soft, purrs a lot, loves a good petting, and cleans himself often.  He’s your basic, normal, male cat named Gracie.

Now the other, the other is not normal.  He’s not right.  There’s something wild, something untamed about him.  His name is Moose.  Not because I am completely enamored with the species of actual Mooses.  (Meeses?)  But rather because he’s big.  Hefty.  Beefy.  Brawny.  Dare I say, Husky.

You’ll note I did NOT say “FAT”.  He’s not fat.  The vet said so.   That’s not his belly hanging in this picture.  It’s…..it’s……it’s muscle.

He’s more like a Puma.  Look at him.  Acutely alert….waiting for his prey.  He can’t help but strike terror in all birds and chipmunks and squirrels.  He is fearsome.  His body was made for hunting.   He’s fast.  He bares razor sharp teeth.  He draws dagger-like shredding claws.  Killing runs hot in…

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mamaboe's avatarMama Boe

It was a dark and windy night.  It was snowing outside.  The windows  rattled.   Trees swayed menacingly.  Brrrrr.

Sounds like a good time to be half-naked in a satin, sequined, lacey negligee, right?

WRONG.

Look, people, I don’t care if you call me old, or frumpy, or sex-less.  Winter is for flannel.  Period.  And socks.  Thick ones.  Fleece, if possible.    If Victoria Secret had half a brain, they would be making their skimpy little nighties out of thick pile flannel, possibly with some battery operated heated underwires.  Someone write them a letter for gosh darn sake.  Truth be told, the Victoria Secret models could use a little insulation.  They all look like they need a sandwich,…. or five.

And while I’m at it, let’s talk about underwires.  Who in the world thought THAT was a good idea?  A misogynist, obviously.   Why not add some rebar, fiberglass, and sandpaper in the cups while we’re at it?

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~ Varmint ~

She’s my first-born.

A chip off the ol’ block.

She’s got my sense of humor.

She’s quick to laugh.

She’s quick to anger.

Intensely thoughtful.

She’s been my shadow.

She’s been my purpose.

She’s my legacy.

She’s my daughter.

And I miss her so much I’ve eaten an entire sleeve of crackers, 1/2 a block of cream cheese, and a half a dozen m&m’s just writing this poem.

….wait.  That doesn’t fit the rhythm, does it?

I never was a poet.

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~ A Kick In The Pants ~

My kids are in Mississippi with their Dad for Spring Break.  To say that I miss them is the understatement of the century.  My Captain is doing his best to keep me busy, and keep my mind diverted.

But even when a mother’s mind is diverted, her heart remains constantly turned to her kids.  It doesn’t daunt him, though; he’s determined to keep me distracted until Varmint and Critter return.  He’s a rescuer by nature.  He has to fix things.

So he is keeping me engaged in other things.

We’ve gone furniture shopping.  We’ve gone to a nice restaurant.  We’ve done yardwork together on beautiful spring days.  We’ve shared meals at the firehouse.

Tomorrow he is taking me sailing with our good friend Cupcake.  We’ll be on the Severn River and Chesapeake Bay all day.  It will be lovely, and a heck of a lot of laughter and fun.

A few thoughts spring to my mind:

1) Cupcake is a good friend to take us out sailing.

2) My Captain is a caring, compassionate husband.

3) My Captain looks scrumptious on a sailboat, and I cannot wait to see him pulling lines and heaving and ho-ing whenever we ‘Come About’.

and

4) I miss my kids.

Motherhood:  A kick in the pants.

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