Evolvin'

So, living on a boat for six weeks brought back lots of memories. Our bunk on MOONSHINE was queen sized. On MOON we slept in the V berth forward. Getting in and out proved the theory of evolution on a micro scale. V because of the hull shape and usually reserved for people who think of sleeping on a sailboat as quaint. Owners usually sleep in the comfortable berths elsewhere. Evolution comes in to play when the mind begins to figure a way out of the bunk at 0200 without sitting on your friend's back. I wonder if the science deniers ever tried it. Also, if it wasn't called a theory would it be harder to deny? Eventually I discovered that doing a backward roll landed me in a position where I could marvel at my dexterity and still pee in a place wherein I did not sleep. Evolution proved.

Wordin'

So......fungible and cottage are two words that I find very comfortable. I try using them all the time. Lately I have taken to musing on the word "on". Like the first person to eat an oyster I wonder about the first person to use "on" as in "turn on the light". How does one go from using it in this way when there was nothing to turn? Hard to imagine someone lighting a candle and saying they turned it "on". So you invent a machine that just sits there. To do something it has to work because it would be hard to invent a machine that is already "on". Take a light. One invents the light but is the switch already there? If not, then how is "on" determined and why use the word to describe the act of starting the light? "On" works well on the little thingy the says "on" and "off" as hydrant would be waaaay too many letters for such a small place. Did "on" exist before electricity? Or faucets? If so, what was the first thingy to be turned "on"? And why "on"? Mancunian is also a cool word.

Speedin'

So..........there I was at our Maine estate facing a four hour drive alone without the benefit of coffee. Stopped at a convenience store for a big one and saw a selection of Five Hour Energy drinks "like seen on TV". $3.50 for a really little can. Not wearing my glasses it took me awhile to see that it claimed to be the equivalent of one cup of premium coffee. Coffee,  like beer has always been a question of quantity not quality so I was in uncharted waters. It occurred to me as I gulped it down that I had no idea what it contained or the effect it would have on me. Then I remembered the advice given me by an AF officer. If a little bit of something is good for you a whole lot more is a whole lot better. Down it went and I hit the road. Five and a half hours later while sitting on the couch watching college football the experience ended and I fell asleep. The only advantage I can see to this swill is that it avoids pee stops and pee stops on long rides are often the high point of the trip. Anyway, a full bladder focuses the mind much better than caffeine.

Ridin'

So............last October I decided to start riding my rebuilt bike to court. Only a mile and downhill in both directions so actually faster than driving. Would also loosen up my knees for a long day of genuflecting before the judge. Wanted to lose weight for younger daughter's graduation in late May and was disgusted at the 280 lb blivot I had become. A very mild winter and a realistic goal meant I was able to ride thru the cold never missing a day until a recent eye exam had me driving to the local VA facility about 15 miles away. Lost 60 lbs and began to enjoy the workout as much as the weight loss. Clothes began to fit and people were kind enough to humor me into thinking I was doing well. I now want to reveal the answer to a question asked by many people. They all wanted to know which item of fruit I saw most often on my rides. Never saw a grape or pineapple. Never saw a coconut. What I do see almost every week is a banana peel. Never a squished banana,just the peel. Never the little sticker I wear on my forehead, just the peel. There is a lesson in this.

Friendin'

So.............................. my life on the beach is temporarily over and I have returned to renew my life in court. While sailing I was immediately drawn to the comradery of fellow sailors and their willingness to help others in every imaginable way. Sometimes we helped or were helped by people we only "met" over the radio. I have tried to continue this habit since. In Florida we seldom drove the car choosing to ride our bikes everywhere. One day we needed the car and the battery was dead. I stood by the car holding my jumper cables in the time honored request for help. First guy said no. I was shocked. Having learned to drive in WNY where jumper cables are often wedding gifts I was pissed. Then the surfer dude walked by with his wife. Talked with him every day, usually the same discussion as he never seemed to remember the day before. He said no. Yesterday one of my oldest friends actually picked me up at the airport without me asking or even expecting pay back. A wonderful gesture and experience diminished only by his inability to drive.

Diggin'

So....... In line with my earlier musings on the preservation of our past I began the rebuilding of my family tree. I had gone back to 14th Century Switzerland largely by cutting and pasting the work of others. My first ancestors in North America came from Switzerland and fought in the Revolution. In payment he was given land in Ohio. Two years ago while at a county fair in Maine I discovered that many of the town fathers shared my name and part of the community was named after me.  Yesterday I discovered that the Daughters of the American Revolution had a free site that confirms much of what I learned. Our daughters are eligible for membership in this august group because of the blood of rebels flowing through their veins. It's disconcerting to read these lists and see how many people borrowed my name before me.  It would surely be worse had my name been more common like Schoenberger.

Scannin'

So....... big box of pictures from 88 Coolidge. 1920's to 2011. What to do? Buy scanner. Cheap wine and warm fire in Maine. Errol Morris wrote long and hard about photographers and composition and a road with cannon balls in Crimea to wreckage in Gaza. I'm left with two pictures taken in same room. I have the lamp on table and I think one of the women is my stepmother grandmother Min. The baby is my sister, Manya, but she doesn't remember much about the picture. My Aunt Kay just died and was the last link to this generation. She already gave me info into the identity of Dodo Germaine who died in WWII. The lesson from all this is to label all pictures and question the remaining members of our parent's generation as to the identities of all those memories. Otherwise, Dodo Germaine would be lost to some cemetery in Western New York and people like me and I will ponder over the identity of these ladies. Thus, the lesson endeth.