Voyeurs and voyagers alike have been calling and writing to console me and offer such things as dinners out, weekends on the Bay, and promises of circumnavigations down stream. I'm thinking a circumcision may be in order, but I understand that that is rather illegal. Have to think about my Capt. License after all.
Capt. Dennis Daniels called to lift my spirits, or just to check that the one I had hadn't died altogether. I was all set to go to Buffalo to take his celestial navigation course, but Capt. D . suggested I wait till I actually had plans to go somewhere, in deference to the "use it or lose it" rule.
Meanwhile, I have a huge metaphor growing in the middle of my back. It's an itch that I just can't scratch. I need saving. Or, perhaps salving. I am not sure which.
Anyone have any frequent flyer points?
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1 comment:
I so enjoy your writing. You should think about making a career of it ;-) Hope you plan to keep up the blog despite the Ocean Voyage being a no-go at this point...
T.
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