And a tropical happy whatever from the depths of Ohio, which ain't tropical. It's what one would expect from a catamaran site. So a festive holiday to you all as we ring in the new year and wring out the old year. Try not to get any on your shoes.
I'm back home in Yellow Springs where the marijuana grow facility sits adjacent to the Apostolic church. Somehow this seems strangely symbiotic.
Boat folke seem to be high in the percentage of the starry eyed. They say the word "sailing" as if it were some magical incantation for the guarantee of happiness. If you care (or not) to remember, I started building the boat after coming off the self building of my house. The subculture of house building is the same as the boat building. Only the terminology changes. There is the crazy planning stage where all options are considered to the point of insanity. I have coined a phrase that suits this: inactivity insanity. That's where you do nothing but fuss with the internet and read books like "A pattern Language". Once you have all the answers (you never even had the questions), you commence. It starts out fine. Reality hits. The concepts become muddied. The process becomes work. You grind it out. The timeline disintegrated a few years ago. You grind on; you grind down. You do some pretty clever stuff that only you notice. Finally it is finished. You stare at it numbly trying to remember what the dream was. Each fulfilled dream takes its toll. Each fulfilled dream has its lifestyle. I put my blood tears and sweat into both dreams. Neither is better than the other. As I sit by the fire in this, my first fulfilled dream, I remember why I started. I enjoy it's aspects as much as I will enjoy the aspects of the boat. It's living. Happiness is internal. Freedom is whatever you con yourself into.