the danish outpost
updated when time and inspiration allow. latest and greatest always in the blog.
tough coming home

2001-08-01

feeling kinda how a girl feels

birthday countdown: 18 days.

some parts of this weekend were so good, i really didn't want to go back to work. as a matter of fact, i stayed home today because i just couldn't win the argument with the alarm clock. oh, i was awake; it wasn't like that. i just couldn't find the inspiration to get my ass out of bed. i've been sleeping, and dreaming about ...things... and just puttering.

oh, the weekend? oh, yeah. i could tell you about that. it would be more interesting than watching me nap.

spent most of Saturday being envious that there was racing happening in Marblehead, my old stomping grounds, and i wasn't able to be there. it was a gorgeous day, good winds - well, wind, anyway. dunno if it worked for or against the racers. i sat there, reading the marine weather report, trying to picture the harbor, and debating if it was good wind. and i realized i know nothing about sailing conditions. i do know that my favorite vantage point on top of the park hill gives you a stunning view of the harbor, and it would have been a Very Good Place to Be.

*sigh* instead, i trucked down to work the show at the Pavilion. loved the opening act, the Robert Randolph Family Group. if you have a chance to hear him (he's doing a side project thingy at Avalon this week, i think), do it. Hammond B3s, baby. the rest of the night went sort of like this.

Sunday, i let myself sleep in, with the phone next to me. blissful... no alarms. when the phone did ring, there was a voice i very much wanted to hear on the other end. The Boy wanted to stop by. we'd swapped messages about being tired and swamped, so i wasn't really sure what was going to happen. i was just going to be around the house anyway, and invited him to stop by whenever he got down this way. he called a few times on the way (traffic was hideous), which i found very sweet and funny, since it wasn't as if there was a timetable or i was going anywhere.

he managed to scare the complete crap out of me when he did get here. i'd left the front door open after stepping outside for a minute, and was quietly dusting the clock when the door swung open. apparently, he's learned to find the house. :) i launched myself right thru the ceiling before gathering my wits to say hi.

*brief interlude*

so then we talked a bit about what each of us needed from the day; he needed to get ready for the week, and i needed to get the hell out of Dodge. i certainly understand the 'me time' factor, and feeling crunched on a project. i also know that, selfishly, if i don't get out of town when i feel like i have lately, Bad Things Happen. fortunately, we worked out a compromise. i was more than willing to help clean and organize (no, i'm not compulsive much), and stay out of the way, which wasn't such a big chore, as i had a lot of writing i wanted to get done. truly, it is not necessary to entertain me 24x7. we got a little face time, he went off to do his thing, i pulled a June Cleaver and scrubbed the kitchen to a fare thee well, and then we went to dinner.

i really enjoy his company; he's intelligent, and funny, and sexy as hell. (there may be a blood sport Trivial Pursuit challenge in the not too distant future...) it was also nice to discover that, apparently, we can be in the same space and do our own things. at least, it seemed that way to me.

i got a start on the Dear X entry, and scribbled down some other thoughts. also discovered that i seem to be able to sketch a little bit. there's a hibiscus looking sort of bush by the porch steps that i was staring at in the dusk light. and i felt the urge to draw. huh. *that* never happens. the first pass was horrible. i was trying to draw the whole damn bush, and it looked like a nursery school exercise - you know, the kind when you first discover crayons and two dimensional representations. *phhht* eh. frustrating. so, back up, look again, and focus. pick one flower, or one small branch. look, really *look* at the shapes. don't think about drawing a flower, or a leaf. think about drawing shapes and shadows.

and you know? it came out okay. it sort of looks like flowers. The Boy agreed, altho that may have been because i wrote 'hibiscus flowers, 7/29' right next to the sketch. ;)

i had taken Monday morning off, so i could take my time getting back up to Boston. helped with the shopping (or at least, tried not to get in the way) and said bye to him at the office, then wandered off in search of caffeine. what a gorgeous, soft, sunny morning... finally found a little cafè with chai, but first wandered past it to check out the International Yacht Restoration School. the yards and workshop are open to the public, altho i did feel a bit like i was trespassing, as people were still dribbling in to start their days.

what great stuff... one of the boats they're restoring is the Aspenet, an 1896 gaff knockabout, built by George Lawley. it used to race out of Marblehead (sensing a theme here?). random fact - the mast was built by Bror Tamm, 'the premeire spar maker in all of sailing'. there. don't say you didn't learn anything today. :)

the other interesting boat was the original cigarette boat. it's a Long Island commuter boat (yeah, right - as if motoring from Wall Street to the mansion on LI aboard your private yacht is commuting). its first owner, when he saw the hull, which is very long and thin, nearly the same width all the way along, said that it looked like a cigarette. so that's what he named the boat, hence the name for that class of boat.

wandered thru the workshop, down onto the pier, then back to the cafè to get a chai and a huge, sticky cinammon bun with tons of icing. sat down on the stone steps of a museum house to write some notes, then strolled back to the park at the other end of the street to eat breakfast and watch all the sleepy boats in their berths, rocking gently on the waves. mornings don't get much better than that. made me realize just how much i want to be a country mouse again.

alas and alack, i did have to head in to work. at least i had the Globe to read on the way back, jam packed with coverage of Nomar's first game back. what a stunning return! *does the happy dance*

oddly, the guys didn't believe me in the management meeting when i described some of my morning and said 'but i'm *so* dedicated to you guys that i had to come back.' i thought lloyd was going to spit coffee all over the conference table he was laughing so hard. hm. wonder why they didn't buy it?

yesterday :: tomorrow

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