Knotty Cat Tales: Murphy's Law X 1,000 = Our Adventure

The inside of the SUV on the day we left for Maryland.

The only space available for Wilbur after loading up the main sail (it's right below him).

The cat is in the box to the left. Her Kitty Cat Prozac worked very well, I never heard a peep from her, and

I was half afraid I'd find that we traveled over five hours with a dead cat.

Hans and I finally set sail yesterday afternoon under a tornado/thunderstorm watch, mostly because after sitting at their dock for two days, we had worn out our welcome at the marina where all our bottom work was done. And to say this weekend was crazy is an understatement!
I could go on ad nauseum about the unbelievable problems we encountered but I would probably bore you senseless, so go ahead and use your imagination with this:

Friday morning we got up at 5:30 AM, filled our SUV with most of the (needless and unnecessary) contents of our apartment, including a doped up cat and a lovable pit bull, and departed an hour late for our five hour drive to the boat.

Saturday, Hans and I put together, from scratch, an inflatable dinghy (guess who got to man the pump?) sans instructions.
The smeared blood stains on said dinghy belong to me but I don't know if they are from my knuckles, my knee, or my ankle.

We found the instructions the next day.

I got to ride to the boat from the gas station with a leaking (later to be diagnosed as defective) dinghy gas tank between my knees. I implored Hans to please not go through any yellow lights, and begged him to not take up smoking in the immediate future. The awful smell of oily gas remained with me for the day and made everything I drank taste like moonshine.

We were literally hog tied by the fact that our dodger (cockpit windshield) was being held hostage by the canvas guy, hired to 'perk it up'. We called all day long on Friday and no one ever answered the phone. On Saturday just about the time I was ready to call in the reinforcements, we found out Hans had been dialing the wrong number!!!
For the record, the canvas guy did a fabulous job and we're very happy!!!!!!

When Hans says, "I have an idea!" (and he has many!) you can be sure it involves some crazy half baked scheme where Laura has been given a starring role.

Wilbur likes to swim, but only on his terms.

Last night after a short but choppy ride (thanks to 20 knot winds) we anchored in a little cove, grilled steaks on our new (purchased at West Marine on Saturday and exchanged on Sunday because a certain someone bought the wrong one) grill, threw an astonished pit bull into the Chesapeake for a swim, and watched a hockey playoff game.

I realize this is a time I should be contemplating my future and our lives together. Where will these adventures take us? Is there really a simpler way of life?

But all I can think of at this time is: should I even bother to put on makeup in the morning and how am I ever going to get our pit bull puppy to go poopy on his potty patch.