I awakened and looked out the porthole above my berth to see masts galore. What a glorious sight. Then remembering that my most creative time when writing Speaking Globally was at daybreak with a mug of hot English Breakfast tea, I hustled to turn on the LP, light the stove and boil just enough water to put into the thermos along with one tea bag. While I waited for it to brew five minutes, I noticed that the five photos for Paul Uhl, our Cruising Chair, had never wafted their way to his computer in Evanston. Drats. I put the laptop on the roof of the companionway. Five feet higher than the Navigation Table. Didn't help. The photos with the clever captions just sat there in the Send Box.
I poured the tea into a mug and added milk. I hate computers. There, I've written it. Mark is a computer guru, so I try to keep my fury contained. But no more. Trying to send these photos is ruining the nicest writing hour in my day. So do I stop? No.
I return to iPhoto and send each photo individually. I don't even send the largest version. The full version, they call it. I call it full of shit. Wow. First swear word of the day. It isn't even 9 a.m. and I 'm about to swear like a sailor. Why not? I am one! I'm not going to even read before I hit the publish post. Because I'd like to get back to writing.
To be specific, what I plan to do today is to transfer my witty poignant musings from three (yes, three!) notebooks to this blog. Not last year's entries. Although I may incorporate into this year's.
I like notebooks. They demand so little. Find notebook (usually the most challenging for me!) Open notebook. Find the next blank page. Preferably with wide blue lines. I like wide lines. Blue lines, please. Take pencil or pen. Write.
But only I can read my writing. And we want the entire world to be able to glance over my shoulder to know what I'm thinking and feeling. That's why I'm blogging.
I'm furious. Because now the sun hits the screen of the laptop no matter where I sit in the cockpit. So to blog, I have to go below. I have to deprive myself of sunshine sparkling on the water. Gentle breezes wafting through my tresses.
I go below and kneel in supplication before the nav station where the laptop sits omnipotent.
Any sailor will agree that the best moment at the beginning of every sail is when you turn the engine off. It makes a little beep, beep and beep. Then it's gone. The water laps against the sides of the boat. The winds reverberate through the sails and rigging. We are sailing! Leaving the noisy mechanical world in our wake.
I know I'm going to get that same satisifaction as soon as I publish this post and turn off this damn laptop. I feel the sides of my mouth begin to smile. Laptops be damned. I want the lapping.