And the sign says...

For Sale - it's official!  

Almost exactly four years ago we set out on our 5-year plan to retire to a sailboat.  We've endured a lot of "Ahhh I see..." and "You're doing what??" and "A sailboat?  Really?" as well as those too stupified to respond.  But we rarely set out to do something that we haven't, beforehand, carefully and thoroughly worked through to be sure that it's what we wanted, and that both of us were equally on the same track, so we rarely fail to complete something we set out to do.  There was always the thought these last 4 years that we might discover we really didn't like sailing all that much (not) , and the thought that maybe once we got out on open water we might find we weren't suited for bluewater cruising (can't wait to go back thank you John Kretschmer) , and the thought that we might somehow find other interests more compelling.  The latter was easily dispelled by anyone watching us pack up to go back to the city last Sunday.  We had to leave early to meet with our youngest for her first Mother's Day celebration, but even an event as monumental as that failed to hurry our departure and we dawdled for over 2 hours trying to pull ourselves away.  The most remarkable thing is that we don't say we're packing up to head home anymore.  In the last few weeks we've made the transition - Kintala is now our home and the house in the city is some place we go for a few days each week to take care of business.  Sunday night we were laying in bed and it was utterly, completely quiet in the house.  I couldn't sleep because there was not breeze coming in through the hatch over my face, and no gentle clanking of the halyards on the masts outside the boat, and no frogs singing for their mates, and no great blue herons with their prehistoric cry.  It felt strange and foreign and I just really couldn't wait to go home.