Thursday, July 15, 2010

Who Wants to be Captain Anyway?

I found myself on the boat last night napping and eating peanuts. I was actually supposed to be helping with the delicate operation I like to call "moving the damn outboard." Outboard motors (obviously rule my life as I've blogged about them several times) are surprisingly heavy, often squirt water when you're least expecting it, and if you can walk away without a single grease stain, you deserve a medal. So in order to fix the thing which is still not working, we had to get it off the back of the craft and into the backseat of the car. Paul's car that is.
As I was laying on the thin polyester/vinyl blend couch, covered in one of Paul's "good" blankets from college, I began to fantasize about creating a small, floating palace of luxury. I may now be referred to as Master of Interior Affairs.  
But let's be honest. I'll probably come staggering out of Target with a rug and some plastic plates.