It seems my lovely boat has forsaken me again. I’m working hard to clean and polish her and she’s biting the hand that feeds....although in her defense, I’ve been doing some pretty silly things. Dropping a door on my foot, really, how dumb was that? Yes I was tired but I’m a big strong girl! I need to get a grip, literally! I’m starting to wonder if I’ve lost a few cards from my deck.
Like tonight for instance, I broke my own rule of always going down the companionway steps backwards. I was heading down front ways carrying a duffel bag , slipped and fell on my backside on the galley floor. The water was calm and clear as glass, no rocking and rolling to blame it on, just me being clumsy. My knee wasn’t in the best shape so the fall only added to that woe. My hip and tailbone were banged pretty hard on the edge of the last step so yet another bruise to add to my collection. My flailing body filled the entire galley floor with my head smashed up against the propane stove.
With no way to brace myself to get my bearings, hubby had to assist me up. I’m sputtering and complaining with fury-crying in between. Fury crying is the dry kind, no tears just frothing madness. I won’t post the bruising to keep it clean, I think maybe I’d be crossing the line on that body part. Take my word for it, I’m sore, I’m lucky and I better smarten up cause this cat’s been using up a few lives lately. To say I bruise easily would be a misnomer, I'm working darn hard to get each and every one.
I’m wondering what the people on the other boats around us think? There's been a lot of screaming after injuries and yesterday I accidentally broke one of the sliding Plexiglas doors to a storage cupboard in the galley and let out a mournful cry. Good luck finding a suitable replacement to that 28 year old item. Woe is me.
Maybe the neighboring boaters think we're doing the horizontal mambo or perhaps, that hubby is using me as a punching bag. Luckily most of the bruising is hidden by my clothing and really, I don't know what rumor I'd rather start, that I'm frisky or accident prone. Anyway, I have to be careful and most accidents can be avoided with a bit of thinking....the brain is there so just use it.
After I fell, I gathered the pups and crawled between the sheets in the bow berth to lick my wounds and fell instantly asleep while hubby worked on the bilge. He said there was a bit of soft purring, his words for my snoring, although soft wouldn’t be the best descriptor for the sounds that have been known to crawl out of my throat.
I admit it, I snore. Sometimes I awaken so suddenly from a loud snort the sound is still reverberating in my ears so there’s no denying it and no need to sugar coat it with words like purring. No cat I know purrs like that. After one of these rather abrupt awakenings, it's comical to see the pups staring at me as if to say “What the heck was that mom?”
After I awoke from my nap the ache in my buttock was gone, the only trace that remained was the cluster of broken blood vessels. My frame must be pretty tough; this is probably a good substitute for a bone density test to save the province a few hundred dollars in medical costs. Perhaps I'll just throw myself down the stairs once every couple of years to see if anything gives, if not I'm good to go. If my bones were dry and chalky I’d be in a body cast by now.
And even though the evening didn't end on a great note, I won’t let this latest incident cloud what had been a fabulous day. From morning to dust, the weather was pure perfection! The town was filled to the brim with tourists and rug hookers popped into the shop to say hello from all over North America. Several, who follow my blog asked how my foot was doing. I was so touched!
This week Mahone Bay hosted schooner races that started at 1:00 pm, filling the harbour with their majestic presence. Their sails are like butterfly wings, fluttering as they tack back and forth on the water. Cars are parked along on the side of the road and people are taking pictures to capture the true essence and power of these magnificent vessels as they harness the wind. I’ve lived in this beautiful town my entire life and have never seen such grace on the water.
Lloyd Westhaver, a local photographer captured the race brilliantly. He walked up the hill behind my neighbour’s house and took this shot.
Like tonight for instance, I broke my own rule of always going down the companionway steps backwards. I was heading down front ways carrying a duffel bag , slipped and fell on my backside on the galley floor. The water was calm and clear as glass, no rocking and rolling to blame it on, just me being clumsy. My knee wasn’t in the best shape so the fall only added to that woe. My hip and tailbone were banged pretty hard on the edge of the last step so yet another bruise to add to my collection. My flailing body filled the entire galley floor with my head smashed up against the propane stove.
With no way to brace myself to get my bearings, hubby had to assist me up. I’m sputtering and complaining with fury-crying in between. Fury crying is the dry kind, no tears just frothing madness. I won’t post the bruising to keep it clean, I think maybe I’d be crossing the line on that body part. Take my word for it, I’m sore, I’m lucky and I better smarten up cause this cat’s been using up a few lives lately. To say I bruise easily would be a misnomer, I'm working darn hard to get each and every one.
I’m wondering what the people on the other boats around us think? There's been a lot of screaming after injuries and yesterday I accidentally broke one of the sliding Plexiglas doors to a storage cupboard in the galley and let out a mournful cry. Good luck finding a suitable replacement to that 28 year old item. Woe is me.
Maybe the neighboring boaters think we're doing the horizontal mambo or perhaps, that hubby is using me as a punching bag. Luckily most of the bruising is hidden by my clothing and really, I don't know what rumor I'd rather start, that I'm frisky or accident prone. Anyway, I have to be careful and most accidents can be avoided with a bit of thinking....the brain is there so just use it.
After I fell, I gathered the pups and crawled between the sheets in the bow berth to lick my wounds and fell instantly asleep while hubby worked on the bilge. He said there was a bit of soft purring, his words for my snoring, although soft wouldn’t be the best descriptor for the sounds that have been known to crawl out of my throat.
I admit it, I snore. Sometimes I awaken so suddenly from a loud snort the sound is still reverberating in my ears so there’s no denying it and no need to sugar coat it with words like purring. No cat I know purrs like that. After one of these rather abrupt awakenings, it's comical to see the pups staring at me as if to say “What the heck was that mom?”
After I awoke from my nap the ache in my buttock was gone, the only trace that remained was the cluster of broken blood vessels. My frame must be pretty tough; this is probably a good substitute for a bone density test to save the province a few hundred dollars in medical costs. Perhaps I'll just throw myself down the stairs once every couple of years to see if anything gives, if not I'm good to go. If my bones were dry and chalky I’d be in a body cast by now.
And even though the evening didn't end on a great note, I won’t let this latest incident cloud what had been a fabulous day. From morning to dust, the weather was pure perfection! The town was filled to the brim with tourists and rug hookers popped into the shop to say hello from all over North America. Several, who follow my blog asked how my foot was doing. I was so touched!
This week Mahone Bay hosted schooner races that started at 1:00 pm, filling the harbour with their majestic presence. Their sails are like butterfly wings, fluttering as they tack back and forth on the water. Cars are parked along on the side of the road and people are taking pictures to capture the true essence and power of these magnificent vessels as they harness the wind. I’ve lived in this beautiful town my entire life and have never seen such grace on the water.
Lloyd Westhaver, a local photographer captured the race brilliantly. He walked up the hill behind my neighbour’s house and took this shot.
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