Definition:
Overloading a boat—meaning exceeding its weight or person capacity—can lead to instability, increased risk of swamping or capsizing, and difficulty in maneuvering, potentially endangering everyone on board.
Well, here’s one for the books… this Squallgirl is overloaded. Not with anything unwanted; it’s the opposite, really. My life right now has been pushed from a gentle day sail to full-out spinnaker racing. But let me put a reef in for a bit and tell you what’s going on.
Let’s start with the kiddo and his house.
As I mentioned in the last issue, my kid is now a homeowner. While this is incredibly exciting, I had forgotten what a financial and emotional toll it takes. Living in my current home for over 25 years is like operating a well-oiled machine. If I need a certain pot, I have it. Need to mow the lawn? Just pull out the machine. Ready to lay my head down after a busy day? Yup. I’ve got the bed, linens, and extra blankets and pillows. I cannot wrap my head around having to outfit a whole house from basically scratch. I’ve taken over setting up his kitchen because, well… I’m me, and it’s what I love.
Next up on the “time to lose sleep” radar is an exciting opportunity for my new business. I can’t go into too many details yet, as it’s still ramping up, but WOW. This is going to be fun—and a challenge. For all of you business owners out there who make it look so easy, my baseball cap is off to you. The concept of implementation could be compared to a 24-hour passage with only scheduled hours to sleep while someone else is at the wheel. I’m not trying to be overly dramatic here, but I’m definitely ready to throw my anchor down for a short spell once I’m launched and underway—just to sit back and take it all in.
Because if you never take a journey in life, how can you respect the trip that got you there—or appreciate the view from where you land?
Let’s now throw in a vow renewal.
Yup. Thirty years of marital bliss is being celebrated, and we’ve decided to honor it with a celebration—not just for us, but for the friends and family who have been our crew along the passage. You’re probably used to my jokes and snark by now. I like to say it’s my love language. But what I’m going to try to convey, semi-eloquently, is that right now, it’s all about love.
The love for a young man who, at 25 years old, promised me his heart. The love of a man who, all these years later, has remained vigilant and true to those words. As a couple, we grew up together and then raised two fine men of our own. We’ve made amazing friendships with others who’ve buoyed us along the way when needed, and family members who not only explored every anchorage of life with us but became our Sea Tow when we needed it most.
Do you know that song “All You Need Is Love”?
Well, that may not be exactly true. You also need your health, shelter, and food in your belly. But love… love fills your heart and your mind, pushing you to navigate through all of those things.
I’ll end this part with a few lines from our wedding song…
🎶 How sweet it is to be loved by you
How sweet it is to be loved by you
I needed the shelter of someone’s arms
And there you were
I needed someone to understand my ups and downs
And there you were
With sweet love and devotion
Deeply touching my emotion
I want to stop and thank you, baby
I wanna stop and thank you, baby, yes I do 🎶
Now let’s leave the gooeyness behind us (phew!) and talk about those boats that need to splash. I’ve been told—every day, actually—that the hours and hours spent refurbishing a boat about the same age as me will be for my benefit. Now, I’m not going to lie. Will I enjoy a pressurized shower over a sun shower? Turning on an engine instead of constantly raising sails? Day trips? Heck yes! But I just went through this last year with the sailboat. There are only so many conversations I can hear about bottom paint, sanders, head systems, and a slew of other things before I start glazing over at the dinner table while three guys discuss them in detail. It’s their love language—and I’m not fully fluent—so I’ll just sit back, dream of warm summer nights, and count my blessings that these are the things I’m complaining about.
Now, shopping and testing new recipes for the business—that’s where my fun begins.
They have their sanders; I have my chef’s knife, cooking vessels of all kinds, and a credit card attached to an Instacart account for easy delivery of my wares. The challenge set before me? Make meals for under $5 a serving while keeping them fast, simple, and delicious. Not easy, my friends—especially when you’re used to buying what you want instead of what you need.
Sure, dishes become delicious when you add lobster. Sprinkle on some imported Parmesan. Finish with first-class olive oil. But to go economical, you have to rely on process, not products. And wow, has this been fun. Like being on an episode of Chopped every night. It’s been eye-opening to realize that great food and small budgets might just be my new favorite combo. Sure, it takes more thought and effort—but the payoff is worth it.
Ain’t that the perfect analogy for this crazy trip of life we’re all taking?
So that’s it. My overloading.
In a month, all of these things will be ripples on the stern as my seas flatten out. But boy—as choppy as it’s been—it’s been fun. Because in the words of Franklin D. Roosevelt:
“A calm sea never made a skilled sailor.”
Roger that, Franklin. Roger that.
