Vacation Notes
Paradise. Also, roosters, mold, and a lot of trash.
I joined the fisherman, who is my husband, on the vessel yesterday. We started on the Gulf of Mexico side of the Bahia Honda Bridge, crossing to the Atlantic by lunch. The wind had picked up, making the waves rock the 17 foot boat far more than was necessary, I felt, with me perched on the fish cooler at the prow.
I seemed to have gotten my sea legs over the years, but yesterday that familiar nausea crept in. My job, other than keeping clear, was to throw the anchor and then about one minute later, pull the anchor.
“I think we should stay in this spot.”
“Stop whining it's not that hard.”
It wasn’t hard, it was a great workout — balancing, throwing, pulling…. but what made it miserable was the reflux, and something bad was happening in my large intestine.
The Road Trip
This trip to the Keys to visit and fish with his dad began as all trips do: bad mood, unnecessary words, tears, and silent treatment. The last two things were from me since I felt my words were necessary in response to his.
I packed the car for our 5 day drive and 7 day stay, needing for everything to fit neatly and appropriately.
