Is anyone else looking around right about now and wondering what the hell happened to summer? It’s over. Gone. A wrap. And yet I feel as if it should just be getting started.
About a month ago, I closed the sale on my Cape Dory FB 28 and moved her from Maryland to Connecticut. I brought along the family: two old Jack Russell terriers and a wonderful first mate, who is invaluable for moral support but otherwise inexperienced at sea.
Yesterday — between writing a feature and closing pages of the August issue of Soundings, which you now hold in your hands — I dashed to the town hall to get paperwork notarized and sent it off to the documentation agent by FedEx. This morning I wired the closing money into an escrow account. As soon as the owner countersigns, I’ll be the happy owner of a 1988 Cape Dory 28 Flybridge.
One thing I’ve noticed as I age is acceleration in the passage of time — not day-to-day so much as year-to-year. 2015 is rushing by so fast that I sometimes feel captive in a speeding vehicle, watching the scenery whoooosh by: snow, snow, snow, mud, forsythia, tree buds, lilacs, leafy canopies, heat waves shimmering on the horizon … STOP!
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