Yes, everything is relative. 85 degrees aboard, cranky and sweaty, seemed intolerable. But upon returning to the boat, expecting the air conditioning to be happily humming along after cleaning the filters, only to find the breaker had tripped again and now the boat was a sweltering 90 degrees, made me long for that relatively cooler 85 degrees we suffered earlier in the day.
I bought a fan at Sears while I was out. The knob that holds the fan cage and blade in place would not come loose from the body of the unit so I was unable to assemble the fan. Back to the store it goes tomorrow. I stood dripping sweat, in tears, drinking a Stella to cool off and cool down.
I dug out the weighted mosquito net that drapes over the forward hatch. Tonight we will sleep with the moon shining down into the v-berth.
Plenty of people live without air conditioning, ashore and at anchor. Our ancestors survived without air conditioning until relatively recent times. We become so accustomed to these luxuries in life. But crime increases with temperatures for a reason... tempers rise quickly when one is uncomfortably hot and sticky.
The pets got some respite from the heat. I took the pup dog down to the pub for a bit and then on a good long walk, including plenty of swimming fetching a stick off the little beach at the tip of the peninsula. When we returned the cats lounged on the deck after sunset to cool off. I found them snuggled together above the companionway, my guardian lions at the door. Pup dog, too, was on guard, barking repeatedly when she felt strangers or the fox were getting too close to our yard and her pack.
I am on guard these days, as well. Any day now I expect the floppy-haired sailor guy to be at the pub when I drop by. A few nights ago I dreamt I ran into him; he may already have arrived. I know I deserve better. Someone positive, someone who won't cut me down, someone capable of sharing themselves. But the prospect of running into him still opens the wounds a bit. I remember us on his boat, facing each other, sitting Indian-style, the song he played to seduce me, that first kiss.
A couple of weeks ago I happened to be sitting beside a cute young guy with some dark floppy curls that beckon my fingers to grab them. We've only exchanged brief chit chat, though somehow he knows the pup dog's name. I'm not sure if we have lots of eye contact or it is simply him noticing me noticing him. A few nights ago I was headed to the pub, hoping I might run into him. As I walked briskly across the bridge I noticed someone passing. I mustered a smile and nod as I said "hey." He said something more, perhaps a "how's it going." But like a flustered high-school girl I was a deer in the headlights, muttered some "hanging in there" sort of response, but kept walking all the while. Naturally, 30 seconds later I was kicking myself that I am such a foolish, silly girl, that I didn't pause and seize a conversation.
Don't we all want that feeling? Not of being foolish and missing opportunities. But of lighting up when someone walks in the room. Of butterflies and goofy smiles, uncontrollable when the object of our desire is at hand. That tension, curiosity, anticipation.
Summer is still a month away. Plenty of time for crushes. Perhaps I'll even open myself up again. I'm ready for some fun and dancing and drinks on the foredeck beneath the moonlight. I'm tired of sweat and tears.
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