As The Days Go By

South Burlington, Vermont

The other day as Libby and I played dodge ball with thunderstorms, we realized that it was our 47th wedding anniversary.  But I wasn't in trouble.  We both had forgotten.

Actually, living the cruising life tends to divorce one from the calendar.   Day of the week, week of the month, month of the year, most holidays,  birthdays and anniversaries, even which year it is, all have little significance to us, and we often forget the date.

There are exceptions.

• We are probably more sensitive than the average Joe to the seasons.  We are outdoors people.
• We curtail our activities on high traffic weekends and holidays when so many Sunday drivers are out in their boats.  At least we intend doing that, but we get caught surprised often because we forgot the date.
• No matter how loudly we profess being unaware of the date, I seem to miraculously know when to listen to Car Talk on the radio every week.
• We have never missed a Thanksgiving or Christmas pot luck dinner because we forgot.
• This weekend is an exception.  A long time ago I received an invitation to a celebration on Sunday, July 29.  I remembered the date and I'll be travelling there this weekend (no blogs this weekend)

So we can't remember the date, but that statement is not entirely true; what's the point?   The point is that we are the masters of our own lives.  We set our own agenda.  Thus we are substantially free of the stress of dealing with external agendas out of our control.   Free free free; who is freer than a cruiser?

Tarwathie (in the background) lies in her idyllic anchorage in Smuggler's Cove