It’s another Tuesday. Two weeks ago we were on our way to Urbanna, and at about the time the blog posted was when we first noticed we were taking in water. I’ve already told you all the story, and if you haven’t heard or read it you can check it out on last week’s blog. Not much has changed. We are still waiting for the insurance company to send a surveyor out, but they won’t schedule a time until they have an estimate from the yard. And, you guessed it, they don’t have the estimate drawn up yet. It’s truly a waiting game.
At this point, Steve and I are just letting things happen as they come. We can’t really plan anything past a week, so we’re taking it day by day. We’re taking a break from Urbanna and heading to my parents’ house until Thanksgiving, and hopefully we’ll at least know the yard’s estimate by the time we get back.
We’ve taken a lot of walks, watched a lot of movies, walked to the water for sunsets, gotten out the telescope on clear nights, and just been content with what was happening around us, as chaotic as it is. We know that what happened to us is terrible and scary, and not having a home base is (for me) pretty hard, but we have each other and Buoy, and that’s really all that matters. I’m happy that we’re somewhere as beautiful as the River House to get to see the leaves change and visit with family. We’re lucky to have this all happen where we were so close to people who could take us in. We’re lucky the boat didn’t sink. We’re lucky to just be here.
Truth is, we’re happy having a little more space, heat, a big refrigerator. It doesn’t take much to make us happy, and those little things are perks of what happened. We miss our home, as tiny and quaint as it is, we miss the way we knew where everything was and all of the little fixes we had done ourselves. The way the floor creaked as I walked to make coffee in the morning, or how the head door had to be slammed to close completely, or the way Buoy had specific places she liked to nap depending solely on where Steve and I were sitting. It’s where we met. It’s the home Steve brought Buoy back to after adopting her. It’s the first place that actually felt like “ours” because we fixed it up together. It’s where I fell in love with sailing again. It’s a huge part of our lives, still is. Whether we are able to fix it or if it’s totaled, we will make it alright. It will be another adjustment to figure out, and we will figure it out together.
Clearly, we have no idea what the next few months, hell, even weeks, will look like. I do know: There is beauty in the unknown, we just have to look hard enough to find it.
THIS WEEK (in photos):
Mentally Sailing 