A Holiday Word from the Bosun

Just as I was getting comfortable on Katahdin, I found myself stuffed in a Cat carrier (always capitalize the "C") and jammed under an airplane seat. Let me tell you, it's nasty down there. Not only is it dirty from all the grit that humans have tracked in on their shoes, but there's also bits of trash and spilled food. Worse yet, it stinks. Believe me, there's a reason the flight attendants want passengers not to take off their shoes and socks. Yuck. And yet, they expect me to contain everything. I'm not supposed to pee, poop, or toss my cookies while I'm on the plane. In that environment, it's not easy.

In any case, as you know from the Captain's last blog, we made it home just in the nick of time for Thanksgiving. It was fun and I always get a chuckle when Sam and Lindsey's 110 pound black lab, Gatsby, goes way out of his way to walk way out around me. It only took a small investment of a few whacks on his nose when he was a puppy to earn a lifetime of respect.

What Cap hasn't told you is, that the last few weeks on the boat, the Admiral was having what they thought was a recurrent tummy bug. Every five or six days, she'd feel nauseous, maybe have a headache, fever or stomach ache, and feel really tired. Now, I'm no doctor but I was worried. You don't just get a bug again and again and again. I spent even more time than usual snuggled up to her leg. Humans are stupid, she couldn't see that I thought she had a more serious problem.

Anyway, the Admiral had another bout of this the Friday after Thanksgiving and then again on Tuesday evening. Long story short, Cap took her to the ER on Wednesday (finally I say) and she had to have two gallstones removed from her bile duct and then her gallbladder taken out. That was no fun but she's a lot better now and, in the thank goodness for small favors category, at least she was in our home hospital.

And, guess what? The night before she was supposed to come home from the hospital, our septic system lift station died. It took a few days for the right part to come to fix it so Cap took the Admiral and me to a hotel. Man, what a life. The only thing I hate worse than an airplane is a car. We live in the country on twisty rough roads. They make me feel like I had my gallbladder out. And, the only thing I hate worse than a boat is a small hotel room with kids bouncing around in the room above us. I mostly hid in the closet--just in case--you know.

Cap is getting periodic updates from Pensacola about Katahdin. The electrician says he is very confident that those problems are solved (let's hope) and the Cummins Engine folks are there today, not only to do an annual maintenance service but also to check the engine mounts and do a shaft alignment. Cap says the ride should have less vibration and I should like it a lot better when we start out again in mid-January. But, I'm not so sure.

About the holidays: the Admiral and Cap are slacking--no Christmas card or holiday letter this year. The good news for you: one less card with pictures of somebody else's grandchildren on it in your mailbox. They're focused on wrapping presents and buying and preparing food in anticipation of all three of their kids, their spouses, and the grandchildren coming for a week. Batten down the hatches! (See, even I am getting a bit nautical). At least it's my house and I know all the warm places to hang out where it's hard to find me. Again, small favors.

Cap just came in and found me on his MacBook. He asked me to let you know that he and the Admiral send their warmest wishes for a Happy Holiday and a safe and healthy New Year.

We'll talk again in 2025. Warmly,

Rascal, The Commander In Chief