Last weekend, dear reader, was lovely. Markus and I headed to Port Orchard primarily for the memorial service of an incredible lady who was a good family friend of the Bulthuis clan. I personally didn’t know her well, but my word she was an amazing woman. It was sad and beautiful at the same time, and as the flute swept the service to a close, I felt myself being challenged to live a life even half as full, gracious and giving as hers was.
We sauntered around pretty Gig Harbor thereafter and went out to Indian food – and I have confirmed with myself that tika masala is always, without fail, a sure-fire win.
And then joy of joys, Sunday morning dawned and after church I got to go sailing! Minus the sails, because there is only so much a sail can do with wind that is but barely a breath. Still I was on a sailboat, I was on the open water and I saw a jellyfish in the wild. Need I say more?
I was a huge help, obviously, what with my boat know-how and mad sailing skills. No. I tell a joke. This particular trip was set upon mainly to haul the boat safely to shore from her buoy (it was a dirty breakup), and my skills with effective mechanical problem-solving are limited to adjusting the temperature settings on the space heater, and maybe lighting candles with a clicker. I was graciously asked to step into the role of photojournalist, which I did with much pride and gusto.