Friday, November 12, 2010

On a boat.

This last weekend was one of those strong cups of tea for the tired soul. It was, in a word, revitalizing - full of vim and vigor if you will. The slog of my daily routine sometimes makes me tired, not of what I do, because I love what I do and I love what I'm learning, but of the uniformity of it all. I've become very good at scheduling this last month or so, and I've scheduled my life away in neat colored blocks that make my outlook calendar pretty and me feel like a productive, effective person. I'm not the kind of person that does well in neat colored blocks. It makes me feel claustrophobic, like my sense of adventure is being stifled. No, I need color, yes, a few blocks even, but I need splatters and swirls and room to run and space for God to surprise me. How will he do this if I've predetermined every moment of my day?

This weekend was such a splash of yellow and blue on a frame of mind that was getting a tad bit pale and lackluster. On Friday I went running in the rain - an exceedingly refreshing undertaking once you've committed to getting a little damp - and then was whisked off in a big truck to a gala on the arm of a very attractive man.

One Days Wages did a phenomenal job putting the event together and are well worth checking out. (

Markus and I had a pretty solid time tucking away h'ordeuvres and watching the milling conversation get increasingly more lusty and enthusiastic as people generously downed one for the cause.

There is only so far little sandwiches will get one however and what better thing to fortify one's ailing stomach than masses of chocolate, I ask you? Nothing, is the age old truth.

Masses of chocolate were duly consumed. Sarah's family was in town and we headed for chunks-ville with gusto, sat around dimly lit tables at Dillettante and made merry. Also genois is french for sponge cake, should the question ever come up. Moreover, a good chocolate genois is a laudable thing, never to be taken lightly.

Saturday was beautifully relaxing with nothing to do besides bake a freight of cookies, schlup around in my furry slippers and double date with Chris and Sarah. Not feeling particularly motivated, we decided on pizza (which ended up being a little bit more involved than anticipated owing the fact that I accidently locked our oven down for the better part of four hours) and scrabble. Scrabs was a show down and this girl and her fading boo were so solidly defeated that the only hope of regaining at least some frail semblance of dignity is a rematch...after I've done some substantial scrabble research.

And then we ran away on a boat. Kind of. We had to go get Markus's car from his wonderful parents and so we tripped down to Port Orchard (after spending a lovely morning with Kelse and family) to go see them. Never has being on the open road felt so good. I got to have home made food and cuddle with the cat in front of the fire and drink in the view of the ocean.

And yes, then we went away on a boat. A ferry ride really, upon the ocean blue. We ran around the decks, sea breezes in our hair, looking at city lights in the distance and delighting in being so cold and so alive at the same time.

I love boats.

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