Here we are

Monday, December 31, 2012

Happy New Year's Eve (I Hope)!!

Wilbur does his sniffy thing at our anchorage
I'm attemping to use Blogsy from my iPad and I'm not feeling too good about it. Here's keeping my fingers crossed that I can actually post.
After a quick trip to Publix this morning I have to tell you I feel far safer here at anchor than on land. Something I've learned since moving to the land of Newly Wed's and Nearly Dead's is this; keep clear of all Cadillacs. This is because whether parked or in motion, those that are parked may soon leap into motion and those that are already in motion don't have a clue as to where they are going and often mistake the accelerator for the brake. But let's not discriminate here. The occupants of all the other vehicles are either on their cell phones, texting, and the true multi-taskers are texting in addition to swooshing their fingers over their iPads (and you can't blame them as concentrating on the road must be so boring).

So after dodging a couple of Cadillacs in Publix's parking lot alone and then wading my way through a myriad of people just to get a couple of very necessary items (bourbon and beer) I was hugely relieved to arrive back at the boat where Hans had everything ready for a quick getaway.

Now, I've taken the boat out of the slip quite successfully a few times now and I had no doubt I'd be able to do it again today. But I didn't count on the fact that the Knotty Cat loves an audience and she hates to be taken for granted. And after today's launching I have a feeling that our new neighbors on our port side with their beautiful Beneteau, and the captain on the boat directly across from us (and right in our forward path) whose huge frightened eyes still burn in my brain, are telling everyone in our marina to stay clear of the crazy blond on the Island Packet Cat.

So yes, I do feel safer at anchor right now but imagine how the poor folks at our marina feel knowing that we'll be coming back in tomorrow.


1 comment:

  1. Well, Knotty Cat at least looks spiffy and, by extension, insured. Imagine the horror folks must feel when my old, ragged Morgan comes barreling at them! It might as well have a sign on the foredeck saying "Uninsured!".