Saturday, 23 February 2013

I'm Living A Lucky Life

It's morning on board. Mr. Smith is cooking bacon, eggs and mushrooms. Mr. Gordon is fussing over wind and weather, setting up sails and lines. My coffee is steaming on the table next to me while I enjoy the sounds and smells of a morning with clear skies and strong winds. My back hurts from sleeping on a narrow berth. My knee hurts from where I tore the ligaments last December. My hip hurts where they carved out the bone graft chunks to put in my wrist 30 years ago.

Out the hatchway I can see the green of cedar and fir clinging to the cliffs that line the banks of the sea. The blue tinged smoke of the ferry rises, hanging on to the rock face and dissipating as it climbs, spidering its way up into the edges and cracks. A train rolls along the track, hidden by the screen of trees. I see the track path traced by power lines and poles peeking about the verdant edge.

Last night we behaved, mostly. We had a beer at a local pub. We ate seafood at a local restaurant. We had more beers, then came back to the boat for a nice glass of scotch. My aunt Margaret gave me a gift yesterday and said "Buy a nice bottle of scotch." I did, plus a couple of nice bottles of Malbec. We enjoyed a bit of the scotch last night, and likely will again this evening. Dinner will be on board today, curry made by Mr. Smith, boat provided by Mr. Gordon and wine courtesy of Aunt Margaret.

Life is good.

There will not be many of these days, days of freedom, careless days of going where the wind takes me and doing as I please. How many? None of really knows the number of our days. That is what makes each of them special, precious, too important to spend a moment in unhappiness. Every day spent in distress is a day wasted.

I am lucky, very lucky. When I work, I get to spend my time doing interesting, exciting and fun stuff. When I play, I get to do interesting, exciting and fun stuff. I have amazing, wonderful friends who do so much to make sure I can still be a part of this life. For today, I plan on living this lucky life.

1 comment:

  1. Oh Rick you make everything come alive when you write about it. I live here and it becomes new again when you journal your days on the ocean. love Mom