Kaimusailing

The wind storm was full on, gale warning, howling sounds coming from the fleet of masts in the boatyard. I invited Eloisa for corned beef and cabbage for lunch later and she accepted. The North River was full of frenzied whitecaps. We had had a lot of rain. An empty 5 gallon bucket near the deflatable dinghy had about 6 or 7 inches of it after all that rain. I poured it into the dinghy and tipped it up so the water would settle in between one of the side tubes and the bottom. I was looking for leaks that would let some of this water out, but if the dinghy were launched, the leaks would let water in. There were two pretty bad ones on that side. There was a sort of two wheeled wheelbarrow full of water and I took the bucket and scooped up about 4 gallons and then poured it into the dinghy and tested the other side, no leaks.
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I had put the stock pot of corned beef on the hot plate in the condemned communal kitchen. Eloisa was there with a paper bowl and a plastic spoon and Blue, her black dog. She was eating the Irish stew. Is it warm? No. Well you could microwave it. I think the hotplate is faulty. I was going to put her bowl in the microwave and she said it needed a refill, not so much beef, but veggies, and I did so. 90 seconds later I put my bowl in and nuked it. Blue got the rest of the paper bowl and she got a sort of orange gold bowl for seconds. I had seconds too. It is truly better the next day.
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Well, what are we going to do today, drive aimlessly around? Let’s go, she said.
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I wanted to see how the waterfront at St. Marys was affected by the high winds. We did not get out of the vamper to stroll around. Parts of the street were cordoned off and a van was loading or unloading audio equipment, amps, speakers, and I nodded to the roadie who was moving stuff around.
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Eloisa said what is going on and I said let’s get closer and she pulled into a parking area. Barriers and yellow tape were in the street, but blown over by the wind. I couldn’t find out online using my lovely phone about what may have happened or what may happen. We found a back way out of the parking area and there was a thump, what was that, just the bumper hitting the edge of the road.
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She drove through the neighborhood, I was not familiar, maybe she goes around like this all the time. We ended up at the launching ramp right across from the boatyard. There was a lovely porta john there and she used it. Blue was very antic. The rainy days had affected him to the detriment. When I want to enter the passenger seat he sits there waiting for me. We have to coax him away so I can get in, then he comes back eager to lick me on the face while I’m trying to click my seatbelt, which he is sitting on. He uses all his body parts to contact and disrupt those around him.
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We continued on a back way out of town, where to, I suggested Winn-Dixie for pizza ingredients, she poo-pooed. We were headed up the road toward Kingsland. Robert had spoken about hiking in Crooked River State Park and there it was on my Google map, not too far away, but we were headed the wrong way. She did a strange maneuver that took us through the Publix parking lot, over speed bumps and out through a line of waiting traffic to make a left turn on a busy highway.
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She has driven professionally, boats, cars, limousines, so I trust her, have to calm down and be a nice passenger. We turn left to go where I have never gone before, to Crooked River. It’s a long way and there was a sign and we turned right, right into the park. The wind was still howling and the trees were swaying. I didn’t want to get out of the vamper and I was guessing she didn’t either. I did take some photos.
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She gave me a tour of the park and then we had to return to the boatyard. The gulag. She said if I wanted to shop for pizza ingredients, it had to be at Publix. I was limping with a bad hip and we went into the store. I managed to get almost everything I needed. I noticed Linguica sausage, like they use in Azorean Soup, I took a photo and sent it to Cuddily up in Crisfield, maybe there is a Publix up there and she could get her sausage.
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The next day I gathered my pizza apparatus, rewashed utensils, and started the dough. I had to kill time after adding the last of the flour and kneading, then cutting the 4 bambinos, rolling them into balls covered with olive oil and in individual bowls. I covered three with one pizza pan, put the 4th on top covered with its own pan.
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In contrast to the howling winds of the day before, today was perfectly still. The trees were full and green against a deep dark blue sky. Perfect weather for the no-see-ums who swarm on us. Finally I have to prep some ingredients, smoked sausages, mushrooms, mozzarella, and two kinds of onions. There were many large mushrooms, the boxes at the grocers were small so I got two. I could cut them on the equator and discard the stems. I tried the off cut ends of the sausages. Blue, the ever hungry black dog, came around for his share, also some chunks of mozzarella. The mushroom slices went into a large plastic bowl, sausages and mozzarella in separate bowls, onions in a zip lok bag.
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I brought out bowls of dough and pizza pans. In 12 minutes it was time to light the oven. Yes, it was 5 o’clock somewhere, here. I texted: the oven’s lit and so is the chef. I began to make the first pie. The oven seemed to be hovering at around maybe 300 degrees. This happens from time to time and the corrective procedure is to shut the oven off, turn off the propane tank, disconnect the propane line from the tank, reconnect, start over. Now there was a resounding rocket launch sound from the oven. I watched the dial climb properly. The first pie was mushroom with some onion. I think the oven hadn’t really got up to its normal 1000 degrees, the pie looked cooked, but it was not black and tan on the bottom. It was OK, the hungry patrons dove into it. They said the crust wasn’t as good as last weeks. Also I was using a new spice, “A Taste of Rome”. It had some heat and there were mixed reviews. It made the sauce a bit of Diavolo. Some like it hot, some don’t.
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I kept spewing out pies. My box of wine died. Eloisa came to the rescue with another box. Helicopter Dave also had a box of Black Box. We became immune to the bites of the bugs. They bite, we kill. Robert complained about the salt, well, you make the last pie I said. He left. The last pie was a pile of all the leftover toppings. I knew it had to bake a bit longer, it was a jumbo. When it came out it was fine all the way around through and through. We had to disband finally and we took away a pair of slices for breakfast, each of us.
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I slept until late after waking up and trying to do the Washington Post Crossword with a phone that had its screen protector drowned in wine. I was able to manage, but it was very difficult. I had ordered a replacement pair of screen protectors. Removing a screen protector is likely to fracture it like a window hit with a rock. I decided to remove it and live without a screen protector, if need be, for the interim before the replacements arrived. I was able to remove it using a razor knife, gently, and only had one crack in it when I was done. Sponge up the wine droplets, carefully replace it on the phone. Almost as good as before the wine. I could now text out.
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The next day we were all happily eating cold pizza and hot coffee for breakfast. I panicked when I took a shower and put on my last pair of undershorts. Gotta do laundry, I needed ham, I needed coffee filters. Eloisa was working around the yard and she would take me to the laundromat when she was through. My original plan was to launder and shop for Asian salmon cake ingredients. As time went on I realized I didn’t have enough time to chill the mix. She came by. Blue and I were bonding, again. Well, if you don’t love you’re dog, don’t stop by. He would run off a bit, this way and that, but he would come back and put his paw on my arm. That’s his signal he wants something.
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I finished the 16 game sudoku challenge and knew I had to gather laundry, my wallet, detergent, and stand by. Eloisa came by and said he’s hungry, which he. Am I ready to go, do you have to feed him? She said he’s coming along to the laundromat. Are we going to eat inside in the rain? The outdoor eating area is partially covered and he can eat with us. We loaded up the vamper with my feculent laundry, and active hungry American cocker who looks like a baby gorilla. Acts like one too.
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At the laundry I changed a 5 into quarters and started one of the machines with all my dirty stuff in there. At the Wee Pub we sat outside. Eloisa was cold, but it was her choice to eat out here with rain falling just and arm length away. It’s an Irish pub, so Irish coffee which is hot and invigorating helped. I ordered black and blue steak and she ordered a bowl of potato soup. I had had the soup before and ordered a cup of it. After ordering it I escaped to see how much time the washing machine needed. 5 minutes. It was working faster than the staff help.
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I could go and put change into the dryer without worrying too much. Although we had ordered soup, it didn’t come out right away. So we drank our Irish coffees and felt better about the rain. When the food came out, not the soup, I ordered a couple more coffees, mine without the silly whipped cream. I think in Ireland it would precipitate a fist fight.
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I couldn’t finish my steak salad after having the loaded potato soup. We packed stuff up and I folded laundry, Blue came in, scampering, and while I was trying to fold my intimate garments, Eloisa came in and sat right there, is there no privacy, not in the laundromat.
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The image is from Crooked River State Park. The wind was whipping up white caps.