Tag: navigation
-
An Open Letter to Patronizers
Help me, or don’t help me, but don’t assume you know better than I how to run my life. The decisions are not yours to make. They are mine. The mistakes are mine, the lessons are mine. I welcome your solicited advice and expertise. But Habibi is my boat. You are not allowed to board without my…
-
2Loved2BUgly
So, I shaved my head. I look like Steve McQueen. Or a monk. Not a curl in sight. It’s very soft, though, and quite comforting to pet. But Scorn visited quickly. “You are too ugly to be loved,” she said. Fortunately my inner Pollyanna piped up. “No, babe. You are too loved to be ugly,” which made…
-
Love is Love
I was sixty. He was thirty-two. I liked his kindness and swagger, but at first I didn’t even recognize him from day to day. It took me months to figure out that he was interested in a non-platonic relationship. But then… He was doing something in the bow of his boat, leaning over away from…
-
Alarms
Alarm cannot be hushed. So said Habibi’s smoke detector when I burned breakfast, along with Fire. I push the center button, but Alarm cannot be hushed. Pot in the cockpit, hatches open, fans on… finally, the alarm shuts off. I did this in the tiny house a few times too, before I disabled the alarm. Small spaces fill with smoke…
-
Underpowered
“I need help!” I yell in Spanish, and throw a line to Enrique on the fuel dock. But Habibi’s motor craps out and we drift away toward the concrete sea wall. Men line the top of it, to help push her away from what I believe is a certain crash. I’d been trying to leave…
-
Anniversary
Push down to go up – that’s what dancers do, push down through the feet in order to rise, turn, and jump. Push down to go up. I did this on my surfboard recently, pushed down into the board while catching a wave, and it worked a treat. Balanced, baby! Riding easily! This morning I…
-
Pity Kiss
He snaked his arm through my open 4Runner window, snagged my shoulder to pull me closer, and kissed me on the cheek. I was too surprised to resist. I had pulled over when I saw him to find out why he suddenly stopped texting in the middle of negotiating a visit to Habibi with his…
-
Swimming the Gulf
“Is that your mother?” A woman on a nearby towel at a Mississippi beach asks me this as I carry the beach umbrella and other paraphernalia back to the parking lot. The Gulf of Mexico is choppy with wind waves. It is June 2018. I nod. “Enjoy her,” she says, smiling. “I do,” I say,…
-
Priorities
Her face is suffused with bliss as the whitewater carries her all the way to shore. She’s pushed up, beaming, holding onto the boogie board. When it scrapes bottom, she rolls off onto wet sand laughing, then carefully rises to her feet, turns around, and wades back out. Short auburn hair plasters her scalp, and…
-
Drive Like a Duchess
Drive like a Duchess with an entourage. The words appear in my brain as I’m taking the inaugural trip with my Tiny House on Wheels. I’ve had one lesson in towing from a kind employee of the RV seller, and now I’m on my own. Cannot speed with a travel trailer, even a cute silver-and-yellow one.…
