Any hope of a relaxing end to the holiday weekend evaporated by 8 a.m. when I realized all the chores I still had left to do before Tara got home. After coffee on the patio, I proceeded to water the garden and patio plants; assemble the new battery-powered weed eater and edge the front/back yard; wash the windows (I even went so far as to buy a window washing kit from Menard’s…who am I?!); do a water change in the aquarium; run to two grocery stores (invariably one of them will be out of a few items, forcing me to go across the street to the other one…I think they must have a handshake agreement or something); wash and put away the dishes; and clean out the junk drawer. I did manage to squeeze a nice breakfast in there that may or may not have included Spam. (It totally included Spam.) I was a real ball of energy for five nonstop hours.
By the time I was finally able to sit down and kick my feet up, Tara was already past Gillette, Wyoming, a mere two hours away. I put on a movie, but then my parents called. And then I kept stealing eager glances outside, because I knew she was close. Tried reading but couldn’t concentrate. Finally, at 3:45, she showed up, boat in tow.
And couldn’t get it in the driveway because of the steep angle. But that’s a problem for another day. Worst case, we leave it on the street. There are other boats and campers parked out there in the neighborhood.
I guess I’d better start dusting off my “Aye, aye, captain!”s now. I climbed aboard to check her out, and foolishly asked where the gas pedal and brake were.
Clearly, I have much to learn about boats.
Fortunately, Tara’s a pro. I’m sure we’ll be out on the water very soon, and she can teach me the basics.
Thank you for following along on my daily (mis)adventures. I enjoy challenging myself with writing exercises like these. On one hand, it feels like Tara was gone for about eight hundred days. On the other, I can’t believe how fast the weekend flew by…and it was a long one.
‘Til we meet again…