Watched the boat come in
Today, I watched the boat come in. Not “my boat” exactly, but close enough. And I was close enough; could have hit it with a snowball, in a different season. Seen between two wharf walls, they move a lot of water around with the effort to slow and tie up.
Yes, my “almost a week” of solitude has come to an end. The dog is relieved, given my failure to feed him lots of chewy biscuits whenever he showed interest. My answer? Learn to talk, mutt. You’ve had lots of opportunity to learn. The house is cleaner than at any other point in the last week (got rid of that sense of sandy grit underfoot from vacation time). And all of my monthly recycling is now curbside. Impressive pile…
On the way back from the pier, we stopped for groceries, wherein I stayed with the dog to prove to anyone interested that it wasn’t too hot in the car. There’s another good reason for teaching the mutt to mutter; letting people know that life is fine in his back seat.
Ran into an old camping buddy at the mailbox (not literally). She’s got new wheels (again, not literally). Hard to believe that summer went by with a single night “under canvas” for me. Is that a sign of my getting older (or wiser)? Anyhow, we’re only a winter away from the next tourist season, and I firmly resolve to do better next time around. You know, camping wise.
Another hurricane building in the Caribbean. That’s not a positive thing.
