A Two-Hat Winter

I’m convinced that winter is over, but the temperature is arguing with me.  Fine – we’ll call it a cold spring then.  It was a two-hat winter and I don’t see doing that again. When I say two-hat, I mean a woolen watch cap under a second, looser, and fluffier wool hat with ear flaps.  Seriously.  And then my scalp was the only part of me that didn’t get freezing cold. Now join me in hopes of multiple days over 50 degrees so that we can prepare our dinghy for the cryptozoic life.  We will be leaving our winter home at Liberty Landing Marina for a peripatetic existence anchoring wherever convenient.  Or at least, wherever we don’t get run off.  This will mean another hard summer in the water for the dinghy and the poor little thing deserves some primping before launch.  We used it hard last summer while on the mooring in New London (see above pic), but looking at our NYC options convinces me that this summer will be the real test. NYC isn’t designed for people who want to avoid paying for things, and several of the likely anchorages have dinghy docks at up to $20 per day.  No thanks!  We’re going to work out methods of getting ashore (far more difficult than anchoring in the first place) without paying, but some of the breakwaters and beaches are hard on equipment. We’ll see!

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The Treasure

I ride this through this to get to this… It’s late but not too late so I sit and wait for my train, the WTC from Grove St. It’s a 10 minute wait. An older gentleman sits down close to me on the next row of seats to my left. I’m staring at the flat-screen-of-fluff above my head experimenting with rudimentary mental time relativity, failing. The Weather Forecast, Local Headlines, Horoscope, Hollywood News… “Hello,” He says. He’s got 4 minutes to make the pitch, I smile. “I am an artist.” He tares off the sketch of me that he had just made and hands it to me… It’s not bad. “Do you know Pablo Picasso?” I know of him, of course. “Chagal, I studied with Chagal! ” Excellent! “Today is my birthday and I want to give you this treasure.” I smile and begin to dash his efforts with a slow, gentle negative shake of my head handing the treasure back. “No this is for you on my 77th birthday, it is very valuable and you must keep it!” I take the drawing back. He then pulls out his 5×7 pocket portfolio and shows me his work. It’s good, ok, it’s great and he has 3 minutes before my train gets here. I’m guessing he’s from the Czech Republic… The work is impressionistic invoking images of starry nights and lonely bridges. The train is slightly early, I can hear it pulling into the station as the people around me begin to gravitate to the track. I roll the treasure up in a tight cone and shake his hand. He has a firm handshake and I tower over him as I get up. Happy birthday, I say “You are a big strong young man,” he says. I am 50 in two weeks.[…]

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