On a contrarian note, we went north to escape the winter doldrums. Waiting at home for sailing season still four months away just doesn’t make it. We were starting to get on each other’s nerves a bit as well, so we declared it was time for a break. We bused into New Jersey (not everyone’s Garden Spot, however, my daughter’s Garden Spot) spending a night with the family, then hopped onto the Path train to NYC, dining with our Boston and NYC friends, once again at the Greenwich Village Knickerbocker Bar & Grill with the ritual ordering of “the cow”, a shareable Texas size T-Bone. We conversed around the table lambasting Republican presidential candidates with appropriate peals of laughter, and ending the evening with the Empire State building multi-color synchronized light show that brought Ester Williams swimming pool dancing extravaganzas to mind, while strolling north on 5th Avenue in crackling cold clear air acting like tourists with our heads turned up, cooing and mooing with each new light combination.
On Sunday, our Boston friends went to MOMA for the last day of the Picasso sculpture exhibit; John and Ed watched esoteric murder infested movies in the sanctity of their 10th floor coop, while Carol and I took to the streets, exploring once again, NYC nooks and crannies. We took the R train to Battery Park Whitehall, emerging from the underground to station, to have streaming sun warm our faces. We walked the tip of Manhattan, stopping to ride the Sea Glass Carousel, lunched looking over the Hudson river, then hiked north, back to their coop, rejuvenated by the urban trek and much needed girlfriend talk.
With the sky graying, air biting and snowing, we continued train travel into Connecticut, visiting more good friends; the mission to hang out and catch-up for a few days–reading compulsively Unbroken by Linda Hillenbrand; creating delightful eats like post roast better than my mother could ever imagine, linguine with fresh mushroom sauce that only an Italian could prepare and pork chops stuffed with homemade apple chutney that would make Julia Child smile; sharing stories, worries and plans; and digging out the car now and again. Sailing season refused to surrender, sticking in the back of our minds with John studying for his pre-departure test for his off shore course leaving from Ft. Lauderdale March 12 and me, exchanging emails with our marina service project manager on enhancements to Dolce Vento. Formal notification of our official federal Coast Guard documentation came through as well. We can leave the country legally now.
Our time is divided into bits and pieces this winter as we continue to plan and prepare for the excitement of a spring launch. These past five days are fine bits with friends that add deep flavor to the wait.