In Phoenix, about the only outdoor condition of interest is the temperature. As in “How hot will it be this week?” For us big weenies, the arctic snow and rain hitting Tuesday and Wednesday promised misery but we figured the sunshine predicted for Thursday and Friday would provide a good window for moving up to The Yards from Deltaville. We cooked in the galley, hung out with the dogs, and slept very well our first night on Misty Pearl.
Cold and wet are conditions that suck but generally won’t keep a boat from traveling. Wind, however, is a deal breaker. A 7-knot trawler heading into a 25-knot wind won’t get very far. River current compounds the problem. The bottom line is that we simply can’t move until the next predicted storms pass and spring arrives.
We will fly up to Rhode Island this weekend, likely to find that the Georgetown series with Providence is snowed out. Hopefully we can spend some time with Mallory. Shannon has been in Nicaragua on a spring-break service trip but will be joining us over Easter.
While going through Misty Pearl this week we found a few more service items for ZMI to address before we return on April 1. If conditions improve we can move to Colonial Beach and then up to our slip in DC just in time for baseball season. We recently learned that our marina is a favorite for Washington Nationals fans since the ballpark is a short nine-iron shot away. The harbormaster assures us that the hoopla on game days ends at a reasonable hour. However, we serously doubt that his definition of a reasonable bedtime is the same as ours.
- Take care of clients. Check.
- Sell office. Check. (Thanks to Tom Jacobs at CBRE.)
- Sell house. Check. (Thanks to Ben Walter at My Home Group.)
- Obtain enough dog medicine to start a medium-sized veterinary pharmacy “just in case.” Check.
- Sell truck. Check.
- Load two large storage units like Fibber McGee’s closet. Check.
Plus a zillion other things. Somehow we jammed forward and are on our way. Over the past month or so we managed to have a final meal or visit with many old and dear friends, culminating with The Last Supper with George and Erin Cravens at their home. With literally a couple of hours left to get out of the house this morning, Jim Blomo provided invaluable help finishing up. We choose to believe he did it because he’s a great guy rather than because he wants us gone.
In the way of Tom and Ma Joad, we packed up our lives and headed across the country in search of a different life. (The dogs are in the car but refused to pose, probably to retaliate for us steadily removing all of the soft or fuzzy surfaces from the house until nothing was left but wood floors.)
Because we have been working from before dawn until late at night the past few days, we both were exhausted as we headed east today. One of us, however, mistakenly took Super-Duty NyQuil at 3 in the afternoon, so the trip to El Paso was painfully long only for the other three.
The newsworthy thing about today is that we actually jumped off the proverbial cliff. This isn’t just a weird dream that will end with us waking up 2,000 miles from Shannon and Mallory and heading off to our offices as usual. There really is a hotel in El Paso that will be surprised tomorrow to find a few black dog hairs on the white comforter.
We anticipate nothing exciting as we travel to Charleston SC and then up to DC, where we will meet Misty Pearl in slip E18 at The Yards Marina on Monday.