There Is Dirt Under My Fingernails

I have spent the last 10 years living on a sailboat.  While on the boat full-time I never felt the need to get my hands in the dirt.  I wasn't one of those cruisers that had a little herb garden on the deck or under the bimini.

Even while in the marina I never once felt the urge to help plant flowers or herbs.  I was content with my watery ways.

Now I have a very little piece of land in the desert and I want to plant everything.  Containers work well here.  But with every little flower planted I wonder, "How will I leave?  Who will water them?"  This can't be good.  Does this mean that my anchor is finding a new home?

I miss my boat and anchoring out and riding in the dinghy.  It is very strange to not be "there".  I find myself living through friend's Facebook posts and Blogs.  I dream about sailing and tasting salt in the air.   But in reality I damn the wind that is drying out my plants and scan the sky for any rain cloud.

Transition is hard.  But the flowers are beautiful.

First Rose

Rose Bloom

Blowing in the Wind

Emotional Tsunami

If I were British I would say that I am gobsmacked.  But since I am not British I will be speechless!

I keep being drawn to the video and still photos of the utter destruction of Japan.  I can’t believe it and it did not even happen to me.

Containers

So how do you even begin to pick up the pieces when there are so many pieces?  How do you move a ferry from the top of a house?  How do you begin to pick up all the boards and garbage and still have hope in your heart that things will get better?

I watched a video that was six minutes in length.  It started as a little bit of water on the street and before you realized it a large fishing vessel was trying to make a left hand turn on the street and then the buildings began to move through the street.  It was horrific and that still doesn’t capture the total destruction.

These aren’t just cars, boats, houses and containers.  All these items belonged to someone.  Someone that will not have a place to sleep tonight, food to eat tonight, water to drink or wash his or her body.

Mothers and fathers are trying to assure their children that, “everything will be okay” when I am sure they are not sure of that at all.  But it is what we do.  We can admit to ourselves in the darkest hours of the night that we have lost hope and can’t see how everything can ever be okay again.  But with our spouses and especially with our children we reassure and smile bravely.

I have heard people that are on the side of helping Japan in their hour of need.  I have heard people say that we shouldn’t lift a finger to help them.  Remember Pearl Harbor?  Funny the same people who don’t want us to help them use the computer chips that are made in Japan.  Some drive cars that were designed and perhaps, built in Japan.  This is the same country where we dropped the atomic bomb.  Not once, but twice.  I watched Rudy Giuliani stumble over this fact as he was speaking about the nuclear plant radiation issue.

As humans we do horrific things to each other.  We do them in the name of religion, patriotism, and some just because we can.  Now is the time to help the people of Japan.  Now is the time to show what we are made of, instead of only being happy that it isn’t the United States that is recovering from this quake and tsunami or that Japan bombed us and led death marches. 

Look into the anguished faces of the Japanese people.  How can we not be touched?

And She Cooks!

Cynthia has shown an interest in cooking.  I am thrilled.  This means that she will start to cook and I can have a day off.  Though I really like cooking.

Zin Zen Chicken

Rice in a Chicken and Wine Broth

For Christmas Cynthia got a Rachel Ray Cookbook.  It has pictures so that you know what the food is suppose to look like when you are preparing the meal.

Her first meal was Zin Zen Chicken.  Wow!  It was tasty, well prepared and I think that she enjoyed it.  In fact, she is now preparing dinner every Wednesday.  I am enjoying looking at recipes with her and shopping and watching her learn new techniques.

Plating

Papa eating!

Another upside of this is that I have engaged in a life-style change.  That is fancy terminology for "Dieting".  Started a food journal and bought a bicycle for exercise.  I am dropping some pounds and I feel better.  Cynthia is a tough task master and an inspiration to keep on keeping on!

Stop Blaming McDonalds

I just finished reading the study done by  New York University.  The article states that just because we put calorie count labels on fast food, McDonald's in particular that kids don't pay attention to them.  It is not until the end of the article that they answered my first question.  Where are the parents?  Apparently they are right there buying the Happy Meals.

I am NOT fat.  I AM OBESE!  That is what my scales say and that is what my doctor tells me.  Because of that fact I am increasing my risk for High Blood Pressure, Diabetes, Cancer, Cardiovascular Disease, and Stroke.  All of the above mentioned health issues run in my family.

I wish I could blame McDonald's.  I can't.  I don't eat there.  I am not a snacker.  I cook most of our meals and watch what we eat and what goes into the meals.

Genetically I am at risk.  However, the real issue is that I drink!  Lots of empty calories in those beers and that wine.  I have friends that drink more or as much as I do.  Some of them don't eat.  I can't or won't give up food.  I love it too much.  I should cut down on the alcohol.

Not only do I drink, I don't get up off my ass enough!

So there is no one to blame but me.  The government can put all the labels on food that they want.  They can tell me how bad alcohol can be and how good exercise can be.  Nothing will change, until I change.

The ball is in my court now!

A Day with the Dead

I have become a volunteer photographer for Find-A-Grave.

I received my first assignment the other day.  There was a request to photograph a headstone in Needles, California.  That is about 20 miles from me so I said okay.  I found out there were 13 other request for the same cemetery so I accepted them also.

Print out and camera in the car off Michael and I head for Needles.  Betty, the GPS got us there without a problem.

It turns out that there isn't anyone there full time.  There is no map of the cemetery so we decided to walk the cemetery.  We did walk the entire cemetery.  We looked at every headstone.  Some were not readable.  Most of the headstones were horizontal.  You could see on some that the blade of the mower had taken chunks out of headstones.  Some were sun faded.  Some were fancy and some were plain.  A few had photos of the individual were on the headstones.  Some of the headstones were military issue.  Some were out alone with no one else around them.   Some were in the shade of trees and some in full sun.   Some had full concrete slabs over the casket area.  Most did not. Some were so sunken over the casket area that I was a little nervous about walking over them. Some were hand written in wet cement.  Most were carved.  Most were in English, but a few were in Spanish (I understood it), and one was written in I think Chinese.  Wish I could have read that one.

There appeared to be sections.  There was an area that the names were mostly Hispanic, or Irish, or English.  You could tell family plots that must have been bought as a group. 

The baby graves were the hardest.  They had toys engraved on them.  It made me think of all the children that had died and not been able to live out a life.  It reminded me of my son and my brother who predeceased me.

But no matter what the headstone looked like some  touched me more than others.  If I saw a family name I wondered if they were related.  I took a photo just in case.

Personal Courage

We just got back from watching The King's Speech.  I am blown away.

Yes, it is very British.  It is the British at their best.  Stiff upper lip you know.  Truly though, we forget that these were real people facing incredible world crisis.

Here is "Bertie" the Duke of York that has a terrible stutter.   His brother, the heir to the throne is enamored with Wallace Simpson, the American soon to-be- divorcee.

It must have been terrible lonely to always be the second son.  The one that the nanny didn't like.  The one that was just suppose to be just a Naval Officer.  It didn't matter at that point that you couldn't put two words together.  Now suddenly you are to be KING!

George VI, was not just King.  He was a man troubled and tortured by the lack of familial love.  The treatment of his brother and King George V was heartless, but that was what was expected.  Just be a man and talk!

The truth of the story though is the FRIENDSHIP that develops between the soon-to-be-King and Lionel Logue.  Lionel is a self taught speech pathologist.  Lionel knows that all the mechanical exercises will not truly help Bertie.  It is only when we face the emotional damage that we can begin to heal.

What a difficult task to break down the barriers of royalty and commoner.  Because of the courage of these two men, England survived the war.  But most importantly two men forged a life long friendship that crossed all class lines.

We should all be lucky enough to have a Lionel Logue in our lives.

I'm Just Looking Around....

My time on the boat is fast ending.  I have completed the major tasks and now am down to the final wipe here and there.

Trying not to buy to much of anything as I will just have to give it away.

Most of the boats have left for the salt water and with everyone that I witness leaving the dock a little piece of me goes with them.

But this is not my year to go sailing.  This is my year to get my husbands and my health back in order.  This is the year to re-evaluate what is important. The year to continue the search for ancestors and to celebrate the new grand-children in our lives.

I hate letting go.  I am not very good at it.  I tend to want to be angry when I leave or let go.  Seems to make it easier at the time.

We have had a good run of 10 years on the boat.  And we may still have a season left in us.  That is the plan.  So as I put the boat to bed and look around I am reminded of the drinks and meals shared aboard her.  Sitting at the table with waypoints to put in and double check.  That last little bit of fresh veg just before you cast off.  The hours of school work that Cynthia did at the nav. station.  Watching energy consumption and running the generator for power. Lower and raising the dinghy.  Hoping the outboard will start.  Jumping in the water to cool off.  The hours of Mah Jongg in anchorages that were rolly and we were waiting for weather.

So on Tuesday when I get on that tube called an airplane I will be a little sad.  But I will also be full of hope.  Hope for the next year and the one after that.  Hope that we get to travel a little in our land home on wheels.  Hope that we all see each other again.