The other night we were joined by Roger and Sara aboard a chartered sailboat in the Sound, an evening event we acquired at a Lion’s Club auction earlier this year. Our Captain, Ed, provided safe passage to Port Madison, where we saw porpoises but lost wind. It picked back up on our return East, during which JJ had the helm most of the way.We were amazed by the bells and whistles on board that were unimaginable to us in our heyday of family sailing on the Odeon forty, thirty and even twenty years ago: a key starter (no more back breaking lawn mower starts!); a self tacking jib (eliminating the need to trip over the tiller (whaa?) while scrambling to the opposite seat to crank down the jib sheet during a tack); sheets (lines) in a centralized location (negating any reason to leave the cockpit whatsoever, much less to sit on the boom to crank down the main sail). Add to that food and drinks provided, and had we not been enjoying ourselves so thoroughly, we may have napped.
For the 4th, we joined friends at their neighborhood beach club on the lake. We paddle boarded, kayaked, swam, played foosball and ate. And it was just barely warm enough to do it all.
D did the most swimming, but JJ did go off the high platform. I was in a kayak with J at the time, so couldn’t document it, but I did get this:
I guess it’s safe to go ahead and put some live flowers in that pot.
The other day I heard the city of Paris is not too fond of people adorning its bridge railings with locks. When railings become overly burdened by the “locks of love,” the city replaces them with new ones. Perhaps they would prefer a different collection, such as these jaunty shoes on electrical wires, found at one of the fields where J plays baseball? I question whether they were put there as demonstrations of undying love, but it is an interesting trend nonetheless.
A beautiful but threatening evening at the Marina tonight inspired me to take this picture that, except for a couple clues, appears to have been converted to black and white.A tall ship waits it out at the dock. Actually, it may wait longer than that for all I know.
Today the dog and I explored a trail that has been created in a ravine near our house. The path has been cleared and maintained, and varies between dirt, mulched wood, rustic boardwalks or more casual bridges of branches placed alongside one another to cross the mud. Many plants, some of which have been placed purposefully, bear identifying tags.The trail meanders over and around a creek that today flowed near capacity. The area is clearly a work of love and/or retirement, still in progress.