I just returned from the river and a two-hour sail/drift aboard Bluebird. Our neighbor Rich Vishton came along. After showing a bit of passion as we stood on the dock, the wind withdrew, and to call it a sail would be to stretch the facts. Still, it was nice to be on the water.
My friend John Morrison is heading south today from our marina in Maryland. He plans to reach Marathon, Florida, where he will take a mooring for a few months. His wife, Fran, will meet him there. For now, he has as crew a fellow he knows from the marina. I've offered to spend a couple of weeks helping him along if he needs me. I owe him for the many times he's helped me with Robin. (And I enjoy sailing with him, truth be told.)
At the same time, I've applied for a job in journalism and have reached the point where I took a test yesterday. No word whether I've scraped by, and I'm frankly not certain I want to. Having spent more than two years unemployed, while I've missed the steady income and the sense of accomplishment that work provides, I've also enjoyed the freedom to move around, on the water and on land, and to be with my grandchildren.
I guess my feelings are the definition of ambivalence.