alright... as promised, i'd better address yesterday's happenings before i completely forget them (gettin' old!)... darn. too late!
just kidding.
as i said, we did go for a bit of a sail yesterday, and there was quite a lot of joy in being out on the water (finally! pinch me!), however, there were some moments of frustration, and one moment of sheer terror. let me just say this now, and all you sailors will totally be able to relate i'm sure; it's too bad that a perfectly lovely day of sailing has to end in docking procedures! it's too bad you can't dock at the beginning of the day to get it over with, and then end it with a big fat smile upon your contented face, sailing in the roomy, wide open spaces of the sea. but, no. until we are in heaven, every voyage must end with trying to squeeze your big, fat, expensive, slow to respond boat in between two other boats (usually more expensive than yours) and a few unyielding pylons. but i'm pumping a head before i crap here (a little nautical humor. hee, hee ; ) let me back up...
actually... it's late again, so please allow me to continue this story tomorrow.
but for now i will briefly recall today's news and hit the bunk:
we did a great job of keeping owen awake yesterday, so we actually got a great night's sleep. now if we could only figure out a way to keep his poops from being so stinky our dreams would have a better chance of being sweeter! our ship's head (fancy nautical term for toilet) is basically a part of our sleeping quarters, and we keep the kitty litter box in there, so our rapid eye movements can be disturbed whenever our noses perceive owen's not so rapid bowel movements. that poor kitty has been having a wee bout with diarrhea. it's not his fault. all i can say is thank God for ziplock bags and little breezes from overhead hatches!
i hate to harp on a subject, and i don't want to bore you, but i need to pump this out of my mind's bilge, so if your done hearing about owen and his litterbox skip down to the next paragraph.
owen has been a fantastic ship's cat. we could find no better. he's patient. he doesn't freak out with the many, many changes he's gone through on this trip. he doesn't hold any of his life's inconveniences and discomforts against us, though we are primarily responsible for them all. he is very fun to watch exploring the boat and his surrounding. he's friendly and very affectionate. and he's smart too. very smart! figures out tough cat puzzles all the time. but he's not so smart in one little area of his feline life... the little guy just can't figure out how to bury his stuff under the litter! maybe he's missing the poop-n-pee burying gene. maybe his mother allie (bless her heart) didn't get a chance to show him the skill before she disappeared. but for whatever reason he just doesn't have what it takes to do this seemingly simple task! and it's not from lack of trying. oh no! he claws and paws and scrapes and scratches in his litterbox for long periods of time (while we're trying to sleep in the same tiny room). but we'll hear him stop for a brief moment to smell if the job's done, realize it is not done, and continue to paw and paw and paw the walls around his kitty box. yes, the walls! he has no idea that must paw the litter. keeps right on with the walls as if that was the main idea. i've tried to help him, short of crapping in the box myself. i've even taken his paws and helped him bury his dodo, but he just doesn't get it. finally, from the bed i can hear him give the walls one last burst of pure frustration, and in one motion scrape and leap out of the box, then jump upon the bed and look at us with his cute yellow eyes as if to say, "i'm sorry. i just don't get it... oh, and sorry about those little bits of litter i just got on your bed" typically i will lay there for a bit in pure wonder of owen's disability. then i try to tell myself that i can sleep with the scent lingering heavily in the air, and finally get up, and with the scoop cover owen's poop myself... does this make me an enabler?
wow. that took a bit of telling.
anyways, as i was saying... we got a good night's sleep, and woke up to the offer of papa jerry buying us breakfast. who'd refuse that? not us. so we jumped in his borrowed caddy and went to a local cafe. very nice to fill up on pancakes, eggs, potatoes, and sausage. pam had "shit on a shingle," as jerr bear called it. oh, and coffee too, of course.
then we sat in the ship's cabin and scratched our heads for a long time as to why the tachometer for our engine won't work. it still doesn't work. then we drove to annapolis for boat stuff, groceries, weatherstripping, and ice cream.
showers for all tonight because who knows when our next one will be because... we're off gunkholing tomorrow! yippeeee!!!
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