Hi, everyone.
It was a chilly 54 degrees F with 79% relative humidity and a good breeze when I took the garbage to the curb at 6:30 this morning. Clad only in my jellaba and Crocs, I made the return trip in record time.
Stillwood, I already have a main lady. I can't picture having another one on the side, no matter how fetching she may be, mink stole, blue hair, peacock earrings and all. But who can blame a lady past her prime for salivating at a tasty morsel such as myself? There are gold diggers of both sexes, sugar daddies and cougars sailing on those ships. And there are ladies and men of the night cruising along, too. When a 20-something girl with 9-inch high heels tells you she has cruised on this ship over 40 times, you know she's in shady business. No, I cruise to get away from it all, not get involved in "romantic" mayhem. For me, a cruise should include the 7 Rs of a vacation: Rest, Relaxation, Reading, Restaurants, Respite, Romeo y Julietta cigars, and Rum. Actually, Claude is also partial to tequila and I am not opposed to that, either.
Joie de vivre, you say? I call myself a member of The Order Of Good Cheer. Gail and I used to cruise with another couple. We got along superbly well. We did 9 cruises together. But Lise (not her real name) spent her whole life in therapy and during our last cruise, we could tell that she was not happy. As a matter of fact, she was just plain taciturn and miserable. As a rule, Lise did not usually swing from the chandelier, but she would gladly have crawled under the carpet, had she been able to lift a corner of it that day. At breakfast that morning, she announced that she wanted to be alone and sort things out today. That's fine with me: sort away, I thought. She went on to declare that she wanted to sit in a secluded corner of the ship and reflect. Again, fine with me; reflection is good for the soul, I am told. Gail and Lise's husband were staring intently into their coffee cup, trying to think of something delicate to say. To me, it was abundantly simple. I placed my hand on hers and told her that we were sailing on a humongous ship; one of the world's largest. Just pick a corner where you'd like to isolate and tell me where that is. And I promised that I would religiously avoid that corner of the ship until tomorrow, or even the day after if need be. Hey, I had 18 decks to choose from and this ship is about 950 feet long. She finished breakfast, repaired to her secluded corner and I went on with my day, avoiding where she sat entirely. Guess whom we saw join us for lunch: Lise in person with a shy grin on her face. Her isolation time was finished and she decided to rejoin the living. Fine with me. I didn't need Lise to have a good time on that ship. Life is too short to spend a cruise day sulking in a corner.
I played with Lucy last night. She tried to rip off my new readers again. I now keep a pair of old dollar store readers by my recliner because Lucy has made it her life's goal to break my new readers. She explored a bit, slid behind my neck and sat there like a scarf. Finally, she slid her head between the corner of my eye and my readers and decided this was a good place for a pampered pet snake to spend the evening. I had changed readers by that time. I was holding her tail with my left hand and reading from my tablet. We had a good time.
I have to get prescription medications at Walmart today. I don't feel like it, but it has to be done. I'll bite the bullet and get myself over there. I also need to make a stop at the small fruit & veggie stand at the corner of our street. I have a yen for a Greek salad. I'm just missing the gorgeous red tomatoes I can only find there, year-round.
Take care, everyone.
Sylvain.