Books and other stuff I feel like discussing
By education and experience - Accountant with a specialty in taxation. Formerly a CPA (license has lapsed). Masters degree in law of taxation from University of Denver. Now retired. Part time work during baseball season as receptionist & switchboard operator for the Colorado Rockies. This gig feeds my soul in ways I have trouble articulating. One daughter, and four grandchildren. I share the house with two cats; a big goof of a cat called Grinch (named as a joke for his easy going "whatever" disposition); and Lady, a shelter adoptee with a regal bearing and sweet little soprano voice. I would be very bereft if it ever becomes necessary to keep house without a cat.
Mood:
Regretful
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Almost there
We'll be in Southampton tomorrow morning. I enjoy uninterrupted sailing along so much that my heart sinks when I see the inevitable signs that the ship is approaching land.
This morning I spied a single bird on the wing, and dolphins or porpoises have been visible off and on for most of the morning. From the breakfast table we could see two other ships on the horizon - the first I've spotted during our seven day trip.
Quite a few of the other shipboard guests we've visited with at breakfast and lunch plan their European trips with crossings by ship in both directions. Most of them obviously have the funds at their command so that three to four weeks away from home and routine present no problems. But all of them mention the ever increasing discomfort of airplane travel.
And while many who fly to Europe and back value the time savings involved, it seems to me that those who cross the Atlantic by ship value time in another fashion. Time is not a commodity to be spent in ways that are physically and psycically** uncomfortable and demeaning. Time is to be partialed out day by day, with a good book and a chair on the deck, with an evening on the dance floor, with a second pot of tea over breakfast, with a mid afternoon pause for a plate of scones with clotted cream and jam, with a long walk with a sea breeze in your face.
I'll leave the ship with pangs of regret in the morning, and fly home on Sunday, but this is not my last transatlantic voyage by ship. I've made a promise to myself.
** that spelling doesn't look right, but I can't bring up an online dictionary at this workstation.
This morning I spied a single bird on the wing, and dolphins or porpoises have been visible off and on for most of the morning. From the breakfast table we could see two other ships on the horizon - the first I've spotted during our seven day trip.
Quite a few of the other shipboard guests we've visited with at breakfast and lunch plan their European trips with crossings by ship in both directions. Most of them obviously have the funds at their command so that three to four weeks away from home and routine present no problems. But all of them mention the ever increasing discomfort of airplane travel.
And while many who fly to Europe and back value the time savings involved, it seems to me that those who cross the Atlantic by ship value time in another fashion. Time is not a commodity to be spent in ways that are physically and psycically** uncomfortable and demeaning. Time is to be partialed out day by day, with a good book and a chair on the deck, with an evening on the dance floor, with a second pot of tea over breakfast, with a mid afternoon pause for a plate of scones with clotted cream and jam, with a long walk with a sea breeze in your face.
I'll leave the ship with pangs of regret in the morning, and fly home on Sunday, but this is not my last transatlantic voyage by ship. I've made a promise to myself.
** that spelling doesn't look right, but I can't bring up an online dictionary at this workstation.
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