This scene is weirdly similar to the disorder that attended various stages of preparation for our trip across the Pacific. The days are short this time of year in Hobart. When it's getting dark at five o'clock my memories of all the work that went into preparing to live on Pelagic blend with the present work of preparing to leave Pelagic, and I find myself brooding on the futility of things...
In the light of day, though, Alisa and I are cheered by one thought: it's time to find the next boat!
Our very wonderful housesit overlooking Kingston Beach ends in two and a half months, and we're starting to feel the pressure to find new accommodation for our young family.
-Without a boat, says Alisa, we're just homeless.
2 comments:
oy. that feels like pressure! good luck!
Hey the difference between blokes and the rest of us are that blokes write about passages in gory detail, but not a simple trace of labor story. The first time I have ever felt a hole in your rich writing, Mike! Or maybe A is just feeling like compartmentalizing. Seriously, am smiling looking at baby pic and thinking about a walk in Nuka Hiva talking about potential second kid. My best congratulations.
As far a health care here, it is approaching the limits of legality. We just got a $522.00 bill (US) for a simple visit for muscular back pain which won't be paid by insurance because blah blah blah..
Can't wait to see what you find for a boat. We are having a sailing rendezvous in Canada in a few weeks with various and sundry who crossed in 2007.
Cheers, Tracy
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