Log Cabin Chronicles

Digital Image © 2000 John Mahoney | Cloud Nine Under Lowering Skies

Sushi, chilled white wine, & nervous woolies
Frankly, Scarlet, I'd rather be sailing


Posted 8/10/00

It came down to this: spend the day hunched over the keyboard, squinting at my Studioworks monitor, and pushing pixels hither and yon or go sailing.

If there ever was a no-brainer, this was it.

"Sorry," I told the captain of the Cloud Nine, a 28-foot Laser racing cruiser, "but I really enjoy my work and I cannot take the day off to play with you."

Bullfeathers, Jack.

Hisself packed some fresh Quebec cheese curds, a brace of baby zucchinis, put a chilled bottle of sauvignon blanc in the cooler, and left Fool's Hollow for the Snug Harbor marina on Lake Memphremagog quicker than you could say "The Parti Quebecois still sucks."

Hisself was early, of course. Eager to be off and all that. Captain, my Captain had not yet arrived. Neither had the Acting Mate, an unseasoned sailor but a bully photographer. Hisself walked around the small marina and peered at the overcast sky.

What the hell, Hisself thought, no matter as long as the wind blows. No sunshine sailor, lui. Hisself then took a catnap in the old Plymouth as he had started work at 4 a.m. so as to earn some playtime, and it was already after 10.

Captain, my Captain eventually arrived, then the Acting Mate, and we began stowing the day's supplies onboard.

The saga continues…

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