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Hey, who wants to go to the airport again? Not me, but there I was at 5:30 a.m. this morning, once again driving El Capitan to the airport to hop a plane to board a boat to go to Puerto Rico for a week or so.
The dreaded call came in late yesterday afternoon; we had just gotten home from a lovely and romantic trip to the dump with our trailer full of yard debris. BTW, the dump was very crowded for a Thursday afternoon, who knew that was such a popular destination? I always go along for moral support; I’m kind of useless with a shovel but I provide good conversation and companionship. And because it seems like I hardly ever see him, a date is a date, even if it’s to the dump!
The captain was asked to relieve or replace (not sure which scenario) someone, and he accepted the assignment. I know he was supposed to be home for a long time this time, but duty called. Literally.
Last night was a swirl of rushing around to go to the ATM for travelling cash, gas up the car, do a load of laundry, make dinner (salmon burgers, which were delicious), have a glass of wine, pack up a couple of suitcases, and go to bed!
We were awakened at 4:15 a.m. by a couple of chattering raccoons somewhere in the yard, which gave us just enough time to go back to sleep for 45 minutes, until all of our alarms started chirping. He’s a multiple alarm kind of guy–his phone, my phone, the clock radio–he does not like to be late, and can’t be late for a flight, especially since we live so far from the airport.
For me, the rest of the day includes cleaning the house which looks like it was hit by a cyclone, figuring out how to complete my Etsy store so I can have a grand opening and a Facebook contest (I’m going to give away one of our awesome marlinspike rope work bracelets), and think of other projects to fill up the hours and days until my wandering captain comes home again.