180 feet of freedom

That was two weeks or so quickly gone.  The boys managed to pull Game 5 out of the fire, how funny to watch the Bautista bat flip over a student's shoulder during Clarke's lecture.  But Houston could not stop KC, and the Jays could not either, so instead of New York City I am anticipating a quiet cleaning night and then a drive tomorrow to see off a sailing castle on its route across the Atlantic toward the old land.  3 masts and a wooden floor and the salt windy air of the sea.

And in many ways, how I would like to be on it, free and clear.  When did I first see that advertisement, I wonder?  Good to see them on schedule, and ready for the cruising that will take them to a new continent by way of water.  My 2016 of course already booked up with hearings and French football dreams, but there shall be other voyages, and it seems therefore appropriate to make a pilgrimage down to Lunenburg to catch a glimpse of the vessel before it is gone, if only to spark the creative juices toward some crazy future caper.  The Ransom was a total bust, but always looked it.  I have a stronger sense that this may just be viable as part of the next grand escape...

Otherwise, our own boat is out, and a manifesto for the slow dark month of November is coming.  Slow start with some stairs, and some gorgeous hikes when you should have been in the office.  I liked pulling that off on short notice.  The procrastinator's time in the woods now that the leaves have signaled an end for now.

Plans for this non-World Series weekend came together in a flurry.  Remember Lothar/Charlotte from the SBTS show and the love of gramaphones last night.  Art is so moving and beautiful when it is that well done.  The last second decision to park and ferry over leading to an encouter with Nas and Tham on the boat, and plans for tomorrow night now firmly set.  Motivation then, to at least do a minor bit of cleaning.

Because tomorrow is booked with the South Shore drive, and then the renewal of a tradition begun last year - a Friday with A. in Ottawa, and not much on.  Don't think I would even recall the drive past Peggys if I had not snapped and posted the photo.  Was that the last time I drove out West Dover way in search of abodes with ocean views?  It seems too long ago, but I wonder.

Whatever.  An early morning, and the Knot for at least the first half of the rugby seems fitting before a potential trek to Pollys and the 2nd annual in your new sunset tradition for Hallow's Eve.  Saved by the fact that it falls at 6:04PM, the earliest of days before the Sunday fallback.  And plans for that day too, the first sighting of A. in months and the possible scheming over another "amazing" escape route.  What will come of that?  You doubt but you never can tell.