In the Chop

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Lyric of the Day:

I'm just wondering why
I feel so all alone
Why I'm a stranger
In my own life ...
Everyday is a winding road
I get a little bit closer
Everyday is a faded sign
I get a little bit closer to feeling fine

- Cheryl Crow
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After a long and arduous vacation week of rain and gloom, it was a really nice weekend. We took the boat out on Saturday, and in the midst of my mind being preoccupied with a hundred other details, I noticed how blue the water looked. The color of our lake is usually more between avocado and pine, but Saturday it looked deep blue. It was beautiful.

The water was quite choppy. As we took a cruise after lunch, Incrediboy curled up against me and fell sound asleep. I'm always amused at how he can sleep with so much chaos going on around him. Our boat rose and fell with the chops, sometimes smacking rather hard. His head would thump and bounce against my chest, but it all seemed to lull him deeper into his sound sleep. I was reminded of times that we'd boat years before he was born. Sometimes, as the Hub would go for a cruise, I'd crawl up into the cutty after a long day, drowsy and warm from the sun, and fall sound asleep despite the fact that the bow beneath me would smack rather sternly against the lake's surface. Though maybe rough to some, it was soothing to me.

Incrediboy has always been remarkably at ease on the boat and the lake. He's been on the water since before he was born - so perhaps - like his mom and dad - even in the midst of ruckus, this is the place of true peace for him.

I am happy by the water. I feel comfortable around it and in it. We used to spend every possible moment at the lake. We'd go out on week nights, and we'd camp out from Friday afternoon till Sunday night. I sleep better on the lake than anywhere, be it cradled in the gentle rocking of the cove waters and quiet serenade of the stars, or while my captain cruised the waters mid day at full throttle. Not that I take on the condition of narcolepsy while boating - but it does relax me, and naps are deep and luxurious in the arms of the lake gods.

I haven't camped out on the boat in four years. It was a sacrifice made when we brought Most Beautiful Dog into our lives (trust me, he would not make a good boat dog). I miss it at times. Hub will camp out every now and then, and maybe in the next summer or two, Incrediboy will join him for boy's campout night. We don't get near the dollar-per-fun-hour out of the boat that we used to, but we are excited to afford this aspect of childhood for him.

Saturday did me good. I'm still dealing with my forementioned here sadness, wrestling with invisible demons. I used to be able to remain positive by nature, upbeat and light of heart despite the whitecaps around me - nowadays I seem the opposite. I find myself feeling off track. I don't know where to look for the issues or how to identify what they are. More often than not one day blends into another in my life, and weeks go by before I even notice. Our beautiful Saturday was a nice beacon, though. I was reminded that even in the monotony of life, there is beauty and fun and wonderful memories to store away. That while phases and chapters end, others begin. Different, but equally valuable. Some of the simplest concepts can slip our minds.

I'm having these moments of clarity more frequently, and I'm feeling better as time goes by. I'm enjoying things I once enjoyed again. In the midst of rough waters, I am relaxing.

I'm a little bit closer to feeling fine.