Watching the gauge on the propane tank creep towards 0% isn’t helping winter solstice tick by any faster. Ever since that pesky little groundhog gave us hope that spring will arrive early this year I’ve been glued to my weather app.
About this time every year I become restless with the stagnant rhythm of eastern standard time. Just a few weeks away until we wind clocks forward again, signaling our transition into a warmer, get-ur-butt-outside season.
Boating season is ramping up, sailing races and regatta’s have begun, rowing and paddling competitions are forthcoming and summer camps are actively enrolling kids. All that’s left is for the thermometer to show us a consistent ‘glass half full’ red line every morning.
As the days become longer my mind tricks me into thinking I can fit more in, as if suddenly there are 28 hours in a day. I get up earlier to capture sunrises and stay out later on the water at night, the time in-between fills itself quickly.
In addition to the vision wall for the summer there is the project list, honey-do list or whatever you call it, where those four extra hours a day would come in handy if they existed. Yet my mind chunks off more than my clock can keep up with.
How do we do it all in a day? I don’t know, I still haven’t figured it out. I’ll let you know when I do. Thinking back to my childhood our older generations seemed to manage time differently, or maybe there weren’t as many options.
Having a personality that commits 120% to a task can be a challenge. Couple that with a perfectionist mentality and it is clear that just banging out tasks, photos, or videos is not an option, it takes time.
My father’s advice rings in my head constantly. When I was a child he would tell me that anything worth doing is worth doing right the first time, even if it took longer. There were times I learned the hard way, thinking I was short-cutting the process, and always paid for it in the end by doing it twice.
I digress, as cabin fever reaches it’s peak I think about the people that live on their sailboat at the marina. While I am anxious to get back to anchoring in a cove on a warm summer moon-lit night, I would think the outlook is quite different to those living in 180 square feet or less, walking in below freezing temps to the community shower and eating microwave or boiled food full time.
This weekend is Southern Sailing Club’s annual chili-off. It’s the first social event of the year since the commodore’s ball was rescheduled. The best of the racing fleet from 2015 will claim their trophies and the bragging rights that accompany them for the year. As for 2016, the racing season is well under way, see you on the water.