The last few days have been days of doing everything. And nothing. and all of it in wnderfully hot (and humid) weather.
And waiting.
And walking (as in some sort of exercise regimen which means sweating like crazy but no swimming). And sitting. And waiting.
And researching on the internet that is intermittent (not sketchy !) at best.
And getting bugged (as in bugs and being eaten alive) which means lots of spraying with OFF.
And waiting.
And eating (thanks
Xanadu for a wonderful evening and delicious meal !)
And bar hopping (thanks
Meltemi for a wonderful Sunday afternoon bar hopping and beach walking resulting in cheeks hurting from all that laughing!)
And waiting.
It's the WAITING that's driving us insane.
And crazy. And cranky.
Patient grasshoppers we are not.
Why are we waiting?
Well we're waiting to get a call back from the marina.
As to whether they can fit us in.
And make us look all nice and purty.
With added solar panels, and canvas work,
and such odds and sods.
But damn, waiting for that phone to ring,
Is like waiting in line for the laundry machines.
And then when the load is washed and you put it in the dryer,
and that frustrated feeling after 45 minutes and your clothes are still damp and you gotta put more money in?
One somehow feels like standing over the dryer,
crinkling your nose and looking all nasty and cranky,
will make it dry faster and better?
NOT.
And yes I have experience in both the above.
And I'm an expert in nose crinkling and looking cranky.
Or like watching the dolphins play under your dinghy,
you can see them clear as day,
and in and out of the water they play,
yet your camera still manages to only capture
the ripples in the water as they elude you once again,
and play with your patience.
So patient grasshoppers we are not.
We tell ourselves that if we knew that they COULD take us by a certain date.
We'd have a plan.
We don't have a plan.
Well, we have lots of plans, but can't execute not a one of them.
As we don't have THE plan.
THE plan is heading south.
So we can cross to the Bahamas at the next apropriate window.
Which requires more waiting.
But we have to provision to cross over to the Bahamas.
Like lots of provisions. So we're making lists.
And the list is getting longer each and every moment of each and every day.
As we add more things to it.
But can't. GO. DO. ANYTHING 'till we know what we're doing.
See why we're driving ourselves crazy ?
Ano so that's why we're waiting,
and patient grasshoppers we are not.
And then a semi-quasi perfect moment is almost captured,
and with a smile we can say "gotcha!"
and it's in the stillness of the beauty surrounding us, that we can smile,
'cause really, after all, it's just another perfect day, isn't it ?