The best minute of my year

Every year, I have my ups and downs. Birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, births, deaths, heatwaves, snowstorms, rainfloods, Halloween candy, Easter ham, and the inevitable re-gifted fruit cake. Some parts I look forward to, some I dread. Some pass by without commentary.

But there is one week per year wich is my love, my best friend, my reason for being. And it is the very start of that week which is the crown jewel in my year. And it is one specific moment in that time that is the sparkle in the crown jewel of the crown of the king of weeks in my year.

Yes, I live my entire year for about one minute of glory.

After heading south, over the bridge, down the bay, onto the penninsula, we crowd onto the ferry, and wait and wait and wait for it to pull out. At long last it does. We then sail over the ocean blue, in (hopefully) brilliant sunlight, watching as the dark shape on the horizon resolves into a vague land mass. And then watching as the little stick on the edge of the land mass resolves into a lighthouse.

The light house then grows and reveals its detail, as bouys pass us by. We pass the bouy, then feel the ferry turn. The little spit of land recedes, and shows us her innermost secret. Dotted with small boats, tall ships, gas tanks, steeples perched on hills, there it is – Vineyard Haven, in all its glory, with all its promise of days steeped in beachwater and devoid of work-related drudgery.

And that, my friends, is the defining moment of my year.

And it’s 23 hours away.

Have a nice vacation :slight_smile:

Oh, I will. Thanks!

The vacation has been postponed, due to a clerical error. And due to power outages, the laundry in my building was closed. Damned heat!

My last day of work was spent in utter stress and sweat, what with unreasonable assholes wanting stuff, and tempers working on high. It was a long and miserable day of work. And when I got home, I found the laundry room was closed, because it might throw a cicuit breaker.

No clothes for vacation! No Aloha shirts, no shorts, no clean and unripped shorts, no tees! On top of that, I bought what looked like spoiled food from the supermarket. Why, O why, must there be a run on shellfish during a heatwave?!?

So I dragged my dirty and sweaty laundry off to a faraway laudromat, to fill my pockets full of change for a ten. And wait during the wash cycle, the spin cycle, and the heat of a dryer. And sweat. And sweat some more.

When I lugged the heavy bag of clothes back to my apartment, I sweated some more. And then came the packing, in 212 degree heat.

And then, the inevitable: Due to a scheduling error, we’re going !:15 later than expected. O miserable heat wave.

(Sorry, I’ve been cooling off with a bad air conditioner, cranberry juice, and lots of vodka. Fuck you, I’m on vacation. Plus, my feet hurt.)

So I’ll hit that island where temperatures are 10 degrees cooler, the water is 20 degrees warmer, and prices are 86% more expensive, a little more than an hour later.

Sweet anticipation!

Oh, and here’s the punchline: Due to another clerical error, we’re forced to spend an extra day there.

OOPS! :smiley: