Friday

I was thinking that for people who don't have a lot going on their normal everyday, right now, Ed and I have a lot going on. Oh, there are the grandkids, of course. And other family members who need us now and then. I have my writing projects, Ed has his oversight over the machine manufacturing firm. Those are predictable and have been there forever for us both. But recently, we have had the spikes of the unusual. Small stuff, like attending to the park creation in the new development next to us. Trips to Chicago for me, sailing gigs for Ed.

In the summer, Ed moved a boat for a friend along the shores of the Great Lakes. That small adventure stirred his nautical fancy up a bit. His sailing trips were once huge and dwindled to nothing. He always talked of going sailing again, but Ed is big on imagining things happening in the future and then sleeping on such dreams for years on end.

Then along came the internet, offering connections between sailors: those who need crews and those who want to sail as crew. He'd been eyeing activity on the site and just this week, several trips popped up that stirred his curiosity. In the end, he chose a good one: a brand new fancy sailboat (Ed would so laugh at my characterization of this vessel -- a more accurate label would be Nautitech40 ) needs to be moved from one sailboat show in Annapolis to another in Fort Lauderdale. Now. Or in the coming week.

There were many calls, questions, logistical details, and scheduling issues to resolve. To me, it's all rather "of another world." A company that moves luxury boats (because in that price range, what else would you call them?) contracts with these super sailors, who themselves contract with crew to get this thing to its destination. Unscathed and untarnished. Ed finds it all interesting: a chance to sail different types of boats. To be out on the ocean again. To learn how the world of super sailing and new technology operates. Always to learn.

So is he heading out? Who knows. It appears that you make all the arrangements and then wait for the green light. Any day now. Maybe.

Breakfast is a bit rushed. Ed is between phone calls, while hurricane winds rage on the east coast and waves wash away entire communities. Fun times.






In the afternoon I pick up Snowdrop. She is so tired, so very tired, that I have trouble waking her from her school nap. I look around me -- a half dozen kids are also struggling with the wake up moment. Unusual. When I arrive, typically most are up and running.
The teacher shrugs. They all collapsed today, she tells me.

It's cloudy and cold. I carry her from school to car, from car to farmhouse. We spend a good hour reading books. Anna Hibiscus, the little girl from Africa who visits her grandma in Canada is a current favorite, most certainly because it so wonderfully describes the joy of finding yourself, for the first time ever, in the middle of a snowy Canadian winter. Snowdrop is really looking forward to winter!

And now her impish playfulness kicks in.






If we can't be in a field of snow, we will be at a fair, eating foods, having the best time!






Ice cream, cakes, popcorn -- the fair has it all!






There are rules, of course. She spells them out, one by one. The consequences of breaking them are severe. Dare I test the waters of rebellion? Let's just say that my role is always to dance at the edges of misbehavior. I do so now as she works hard to reign me in.





It's good to flip sides occasionally, so that she will be the one who is forced to take the high road and I can acknowledge the difficulties of being spunky and spirited.


In the evening, Ed and I are back in the limbo world of waiting. Will the ship sail? With him? Without him? I do not know.