This word once described her: Poquito.
But this bug, with her massive libido,
Must have slept with a cow,
For her offspring are now
Too huge to be called mere “mosquito.”

What I wanted was just to relate,
To the mother of my chosen mate,
So we stared at the screen,
Of an Apple machine,
And we chatted of things like baud rate.

Though that’s twenty-three years in the past,
And our new Mac computers are fast,
We still sit back-to-back,
In the family shack,
And we surf and play games — what a blast!

They held extra rain in the sky,
Until I arrived in July,
A serious bummer,
Because in the summer
Seattle should be warm and dry.

Did you guys save this rain just for me? You shouldn’t have!

–

Though we stayed from December til May,
It was time to get back under way,
We had put our hook down,
In a posh Florida town,
And they just kicked us out yesterday.

Just kidding! The truth is complex –
No one in this fine town objects,
To our presence, in fact,
They speak to us with tact,
For my Dad’s the Crown Prince: “Vero Rex.”

He must be: He treats us like royalty!

As dear Flutterby hung on her rode,
We both got in our dinghy and rowed,
To our bikes, which we rode,
Down a nice, level road,
Meanwhile, Margaret composed this, Our Ode.

The problem with limericks is that sometimes they chase me down and refuse to leave me alone. This was one of those. “Go ‘way,” I said, but it didn’t. It followed me on my bike for 5 miles. It’s not even a proper rhyme, just a bunch of homonyms.
-30-

“Wow, your guest room is really bizarre,”
Said our friends, who had come from afar.
Just a tarp on the grass,
For this lad and this lass,
But they saw every bright falling star.

In the Pacific Northwest in summer, you can throw a sleeping bag on the grass and sleep outside. It’s heavenly during the Perseid meteor shower, when the stars are falling in streaks of yellow and white and blue across the sky … that’s what we did for two nights with our friends, Will and Tina.

When the skies opened forth with such power,
I was drowned like a rat. So I glower
At my husband, who’s dry,
And who says, smug and sly,
“I towel off when I go take a shower.”

It rained so hard the other day, I nearly drowned getting back to Flutterby — even with a fortuitous ride across the boatyard from Ted. I should have just gotten into my birthday suit and stood on the foredeck with a bottle of shampoo.

“Sham Poo? No way! Give me the real thing, or nothing.”

We found in our mailbox a letter–
Inside, a surprise! Even better!
A tiny flat boy,
To bring us much joy.
‘Twas Stanley, the Airmail Jet-Setter.

Stay tuned for more photos and stories of Stanley’s visit to Beaufort and environs. He was an excellent boat guest.

The chances of finding a favorite Seattle friend living in Morehead City were so miniscule, we thought that Hell would freeze over first. We caught up with Kevin in December — he’d been living here for 3 years, and Flutterby’s been here for 2 years. On February 13th, when he came out to see the boat for the first time, Hell froze over, as evidenced by the photo below.

From Seattle, friend Kevin is witty,
But we’d got out of touch, what a pity.
But then Hell did freeze over,
For this fine Irish Rover,
Has been living in wee Morehead City.

Left: Meps and Kevin, Right: There was no snow when Kevin arrived at the boat. After dinner, here he is (on the far side) cleaning off his truck.

The boat was so cold that we shut
The door to the forward end. But
We still had a bed,
And a galley and head,
In our maritime eight-by-twelve hut.

Below is a photo of me in our dinette bed during the cold, when the boat interior was about 45 degrees for a week. I’m wearing a wool top under my jammies, a fleece hood, and have two teddy bears to help keep me warm. Although we couldn’t drag ourselves out from under the blankets before noon, we were able to make coffee without getting out of bed!

Three eateries here went away,
As I crossed the entire U.S.A.
If I’d bought just one meal,
From Ralwiggie’s, I feel,
They might still be in business today.

In that great spot across from the park,
I found Taylor’s all shuttered and stark.
So I walked down to Cru,
Just to purchase some brew,
So that they will not also go dark.

But I found, on that sad recent drive,
Though the good food in town can’t survive,
If the service is cursed,
And the food is the worst –
All the baaaaad Chinese places still thrive.

While I was away, the boatyard had a potluck so memorable, people were still talking about it 5 weeks later:

Now, Miss Manners would never say, “Eww,”
So Miss Audrey knew just what to do.
With a smile so polite,
She spoke out with no spite,
“Oh, how nice! Ken brought turkey that’s blue.”

Someone tried to give the turkey to the cats, but they wouldn’t touch it. Barry says it’s probably still on the bottom of Core Creek. Eww.

It’s been eighteen whole years since that day,
When we stepped to the bar just to say,
“Yep, I do,” “I do, too,”
“Here’s a ring just for you,”
And our friends raised their drinks and said, “Yay!”

The day before our 18th wedding anniversary, we stopped to investigate a place on Highway 20 called the Beer Shrine and Wedding Chapel. It reminded me of the fact that when we were married aboard the Flying Cloud, the wedding was actually performed under a palm frond arch in front of the bar.

Barry and I learned many things during our visit to the Beer Shrine and Wedding Chapel. We found out that lots of people like the pizza there. We heard from the owner that she is licensed to perform marriages and does about 30 per year, right there in the bar. We confirmed that Barry likes homemade root beer. We confirmed that Margaret does not like beer. Most importantly, we discovered that Barry does not like beer-flavored kisses — so root beer is the only way to go!

On receiving a call from Iceland in the midst of record-breaking heat:

It’s one hundred and five here, you know,
So your calling and saying “Hello,”
From the Land of the Ice,
Felt quite pleasant and nice,
Although next time, could you please send snow?

Two kittens have lived worry-free,
In our boat at the edge of the sea,
But they snoozed and they dozed,
With their four eyes all closed,
So they never knew Grandma was me.

We found a foster home for our rescue cat and kittens through PAWS, two days before we left for Seattle. The kittens took so long to open their eyes, though, I thought they never would! We finally saw their eyes on July 4th, two and a half weeks after they were born.

The portlights are in, this is true,
Installed with some goop and a screw.
But now Barry’s addiction,
Is causing some friction.
He cannot stop thinking of “Goo.”

Barry rewarded himself for getting the last two portlights installed by buying a new computer game, World of Goo. Myself, I think he should focus on World of Boat, or at least, World of Goop.

Here’s a big, buzzy carpenter bee,
And a husband with sting-allergy.
Now each trip on the ladder,
To relieve his bladder,
Is a peril, so it’s up to me.

Right here is a new, bee-free ladder,
90 pounds, though, and that is the matter,
For the lift goes awry,
It just falls from the sky,
And it makes Larry’s barbecue flatter.

Now I wish that my friend, Mrs. Bee,
Had drilled out her nest in a tree,
Then she’d still be alive,
And her children would thrive,
And my ladder would be bee-hole free.

In a funny coincidence, we bought a CD on Friday called “A Buzz, A Buzz.” We had discovered a great new alternative band out of Durham called Bombadil. Seattle friends, go see Bombadil at the Tractor Tavern on July 26th!

Hubby needs something, quick, from below.
So I dash down the ladder, not slow,
Then I trip on a door
That he left on the floor,
“Here’s your tool, but I’ve broken my toe!”

Cogito, ergonomic sum: I sit up, therefore I am…not going to a back doctor. (Before and after photos for this one can be found below, on the website.)

My Dad had a terrible slouch,
As he sat at his desk or the couch,
But we found a new chair,
And he sits upright there,
So he no longer whines and says, “Ouch.”

One may purchase three items, no more,
After nine at the Food Lion store.
So our cart, piled with food,
Made the checker quite rude
And she scowled ’til we rolled out the door.

We decided to shop for a basket full of groceries after dinner in town, but what a mistake! We were the only people buying more than three items, and the checkout clerk treated us like pariahs. I guess she wants us to start shopping at Piggly Wiggly?

We’re stuck in the library here,
The problem is liquid, I fear.
It’s raining like cats
And dogs. We’ve no hats,
So we’ll just have to read ’til it’s clear.

Squid are creatures that live in the deep,
Not a sound as they swim and they creep.
I was shocked to the core,
When I heard my squid roar,
‘Twas a miracle, wrought by my Peep.

Barry, who I sometimes call “Peep,” wrote about this event in his usual understated fashion in his recent blog entry.

Here’s a fabulous response from our friend Pat, who lives in NC:

A wagon that roars and squirts ink
(Not oil, of that let’s not think)
will ferry you back to your boat
and shlep all the stuff it will will float.
Please stop by so we can see you and wink!

Here’s something that Grandma enjoys:
A house that is chock-full of noise,
Where elephants thump,
And dinosaurs jump.
Such racket from two little boys!

When two boys come for a visit, and their combined age is less than 10, there’s a lot of chaos!

A bike has two wheels in a line,
But this speed-demon husband of mine,
Needs a wheelchair to ride,
With its wheels side-by-side,
And a nurse and two doctors behind.

Barry was riding too fast on his new Bike Friday on Monday. The accident netted him a broken arm, a broken finger, multiple contusions, a black eye, and an extremely concerned but annoyed spouse.

There once was a guy with a bow
And into the woods he would go
To look far and near
For a nice chubby deer
To put in the freezer, you know!

Read more about Stellrecht adventures in bow hunting here.

I’m staring at my new abode
Which from miles away, I have towed
Because I’m a sailor
This large, boxy trailer
Does not inspire much of an ode
===
I am getting used to the sight of our used 30-foot travel trailer in the driveway, but it’s still very strange to me. Why is the ugliest boat more beautiful than the loveliest RV?

We got the house shiny and clean
It looked just like a magazine
But since fluffing’s the rage
We are living on stage
The illusion is what makes the scene

Our house here was once owned by Rose
Who made certain that when she arose
She only saw PINK
From her fridge to her sink
To her ceiling, walls, carpet, and clothes

We’ve just gotten word that the exterior of the house used to be PINK as well…Wow! What an eyeful that would be!

Our roof was all nasty and brown
And bringing the house value down
But good old Marmot
Fixed up what we’ve got
And gave us the best roof in town

Check out the entry under “Adventures,” with photos of the process!

Nineteen eighty-six, early September
A date that I’ll always remember
A small cat with loud voice
Did not give me a choice
Announced she, “I’m your new family member!”

Although my friends think me a flake
On New Year’s, a swim I do take
And now, I have found
That dear Puget Sound
Is colder, by far, than the lake!

A snowfall out here is a treat,
And the neighbors who live on this street
Saw the man with the beard
And his wife, who is weird
Run around in it, in their bare feet.

Folks in Seattle can see snow-capped mountains year ’round. But actual snow on the ground in Seattle is rare and exciting.

“What’s this?” cried the daughter-in-law
“Our holiday plan has a flaw!
To cut down this thing
You’re not s’posed to bring
A big old gas-powered chain saw!”