Yesssss! We have met an actual marine mechanic, bless his buttons. His name is Mark. We think we love him. He looked at our transmission, and he diagnosed it immediately. “Your transmission is F****ed,” he said. I believe this is a technical term.
As a friend of ours said, “Your transmission is sexually active? Wait seven months and you’ll have a new one.”
But that’s an aside – back to the point. Mark says that for money he can fix our problem. We are ecstatic. Also, for not as much money as we had feared. Double ecstasy! We may yet be able to go sailing this summer. So, yea!
My young student’s walk-up is tonight. I can’t wait to see her graduate. She has a killer gown and great hopes for the future. May the blessings of heaven be upon her as she ventures forth into the world!
This morning, an actual day off, so I am cooking vats of rhubarb jam. The Bernardin recipes are never-fail fantastic. This one is a ginger-citrus combination that explodes in your mouth. Since I’ve been churning out jam, the scales have not been with me at my fat-lady group, but the payoff in jam has been worth it.
Our friend Screaming Liver has a new boat, but he has moved onto another nearby dock. We miss him, and so do the dock swans, who used to come caging around looking for bread. Screaming Liver foolishly fed them from his lips – he’d hold the bread in his teeth and lean sideways over the water and the swans would snatch the bread from his mouth. Don’t try this at home. He got away with a few nicks, which is more luck than he probably deserves.
That is the news from here. School is almost done, and I look forward to more days off. More jam. More boating. We live in a remarkable and beautiful part of the world.