I'm on deadline today, and should be working on a magazine instead of dropping by here, but I feel myself getting the urge to write again. What was once new is now becoming my normal life...I guess.
And so we went to Lake Erie fishing on a charter boat named Chelsea with Captain Frank. The crew was to be composed of me, Steve and his mom and dad. So they drove in from Wetonka early Thursday morning. Reluctantly, Steve parked his new truck for the weekend, and we squeezed the VW in the garage (a bad garage - too small for much of anything). We packed up the Ford Explorer we rented and headed out on the freeway toward Ohio and the big water.
The drive was daunting, the accomodations - a trailer house with 6 twin beds - were not what we'd expected, but the fishing was good. And during this trip, I think I actually became a fisherperson in training. I did catch a few fish of my own, and it felt good. I got to know Steve's folks better. They're pretty easy to like, and they remind me of my parents and home. This is good. They make me feel like part of the family, which is something I'm not used to - but I like it.
After we caught lots of fish - except the "big one" which eluded Steve despite his resolve - we drove away from our trailer house to Doylestown. I was a little nervous for the first meeting between my family and Steve's. Somehow I managed to get us there, despite the fact that I have no remembrance of where things are in that part of the country. I did okay until we got to D-town, where I just couldn't seem to find Mom's new house. I was so embarrassed, and will never live it town. I'm sure I've convinced the entire family of the fact that I am indeed, directionally challenged. (I tried to tell you...)
And now it's Thursday...and I'm done with the magazine, and my morning is mine....
The visit was unremarkable, except to say that there was no drama. This is good.
Life is good. I am happy...and everything is as it should be.