tick-tick-tick

It's getting a little ridiculous.
Paul and Don and I put the sails on two weeks ago,

then Paul fixed the shims on the tiller, then . . . then . . .
Paul has no time during the week to go out with me.  Too busy, he says.
Probably just doesn't want to be embarrassed by my nautical stupidity.


Napping on the boat yesterday, I hear a  groan and a creak, and woke to find the Amistad lumbering up the river to the Seaport for its winter maintenance.

As my cousin Jen says of those on shore, "They watch."

And I'm just the fixer.  I don't know nothin' 'bout sailing these big monsters alone.  So Jeff sits patiently on Paul's mooring, probably permanently for this year anyway, waiting for me to get in at least one sail before the summer is over.  And what great weather for it lately!

Lots of people have told me (and the Historical Society) how much they love seeing Jeff Brown in the harbor again.  So now we get lots of photos by fantastic photographers.

But I go out every day to make sure the solar pumps are working, and just read the Times and nap.  It's quite soothing.  I still feel a bit maternal.  Actually, I think Jeff is the one who feels maternal now, and I am just an infant in the cradle rocking . . .