how do I not have a boating icon?
Sep. 6th, 2010 05:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rivendellroseDad's boat has been christened and launched. It's an all-wood, hand-made 17 foot rowboat right now, with plans to build mast and rudder for sailing later. Cream paint on most of the hull, mahogany trim. Smoothest, most beautiful row-boat ever - I managed to finagle two trips on it - the first, it's maiden voyage, with my dad and stepmom, and the second out again with my dad and The Boy, on which we tested for speed (impressively fast - the thing just glides, coasting along for quite a while on a single stroke) and stability (Dad was able to lean what looked like all his weight on one side, and it still had a good six-to-eight inches of clearance above the water). The boating bug is tickling at the back of my mind again - I hardly ever get out on the water nowadays, but as soon as I do something in the back of my head clicks into place, and I'm happy as can be.
Same thing with being out in the sticks (my dad's place now is even more rural than where I grew up), wandering aimlessly through the garden and enjoying being surrounded by trees. I love city living, and it's pretty much a necessity for me given how much I hate driving and how downright not-good-at-it I am (depth perception: it's a remarkably important part of driving, and I do not have it in the way people with normal eyes that work at the same time do).
But anyway, yes. Boat was lovely. Lake was lovely. Seeing Dad and grandparents was lovely (ha, Grandpa has read "Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell," as well as most of Bill Bryon's books - the older I get the more I wonder what the hell skipped a generation, popping over Dad's head straight from Grandpa to me). Seeing Dad's pastor and a friend of his from his church and their god-help-me-Stepford-Wives was less fun, but they were nice people, just... slightly unnerving, as were about half the conversations with Stepmom and Grandma. But hey. That's life.
Same thing with being out in the sticks (my dad's place now is even more rural than where I grew up), wandering aimlessly through the garden and enjoying being surrounded by trees. I love city living, and it's pretty much a necessity for me given how much I hate driving and how downright not-good-at-it I am (depth perception: it's a remarkably important part of driving, and I do not have it in the way people with normal eyes that work at the same time do).
But anyway, yes. Boat was lovely. Lake was lovely. Seeing Dad and grandparents was lovely (ha, Grandpa has read "Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell," as well as most of Bill Bryon's books - the older I get the more I wonder what the hell skipped a generation, popping over Dad's head straight from Grandpa to me). Seeing Dad's pastor and a friend of his from his church and their god-help-me-Stepford-Wives was less fun, but they were nice people, just... slightly unnerving, as were about half the conversations with Stepmom and Grandma. But hey. That's life.
