Fire Cloud...
An irregular marking on the exterior of Native American pottery: usually resulting from burning fuel coming in direct contact with the vessel during firing

Monday, 23 March 2009

Whatever Floats Your Boat

Savannah, Georgia

We're in a little RV park outside Savannah. I've found a new Captain's chair I like for the Blue Bus. It only costs $2,700. The uniform is $60 more. We had thought to maybe go see the Eighth Air Force museum back on exit 102, but I think we will press on to Tampa this morning and say our goodbyes to friends, family, hairdressers and medical staff before the trip to Spain on the 1st of April.

The boat building on Saturday went well. Dave, out in rural North Carolina, arranged the event for fathers and sons in the small congregation. I fill in because Kenny is not supposed to be exerting himself. The church members take turns bringing gluten free dinners to the family during Kenny's illness. I met the temporary pastor, Tom. He's filling in for the regular guy, who was called for duty in Iraq. Dave is an American Airlines pilot. You'd want him for a neighbor. Dave's wife provides a delicious chili for lunch.

We got there 90 minutes late because the oldest, number 52, my partner in this adventure, was coaching a soccer team on which one of his brothers and other five-year olds play. We also left the boat building marathon for three hours in the afternoon for another soccer game on which he was playing. Despite all that we finished on time, a model of American efficiency.

Here's number 52, attaching pieces to the boat bottom. His Mom tells me that she wants him to do all the work...No problemo...that's the same approach we used on the swing set, I tell her.

The finished product, ready to paint, is amazingly light, but sturdy. We leave it with Dave because it won't fit in the Toyota. Number 52 will paint it Hot Pink later and give it to his sisters as a present.

We decided to have a bottle of red wine last night with dinner, but they don't sell alcohol in Georgia on Sunday. We had a glassful of leftover Merlot that we've been hauling around. It was slightly off, but after all that abstinence, we got a little buzzed on just one glass.

No comments:

Post a Comment