When I got back to the boat, I wrote my story. As I said yesterday it had been forming in my head for a few days, so it was a breeze to write. I've done a little editing off and on through the morning.
At ten I went to get a golf cart, drove to the store and got some salad for dinner, a News and Observer and a New York Times. I stopped by the dockmaster's office to hug him - his wife died suddenly a month or so ago and I haven't seen him since it happened. He acted very stoic - "mourn and get on with it" - but his eyes were very sad.
I am always struck by how beautiful the harbor here is, and this morning the sun was bright and the sky was blue. I was glad I had thought to put my little Nikon in my bag.
My throat feels scratchy (just like it did the last time we were here) but the store didn't have any Airborne or Zycam so I am getting my husband to bring some from Wilmington. (For some reason I was just struck by the word "husband" - it seemed strange - do I never say that word?) I tried to get a short nap but Deva Premal came on the IPod, louder than the rest of the music that had been playing and interrupted the light sleep.
Half the day gone, but I'm happy to have accomplished so much.
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