Monday, May 6, 2013

Thanks for being there, WD

Sunday morning started out normal enough.  Drew and I drank coffee in the sun while the girls slept in after a late night at the art opening.  We started to plan out our day and decided that pulling the boat out of the water and onto the trailer for maintenance was the plan.  The plan quickly changed as the stomach flu set in, and rapidly made us look like this:


Marguerite woke up bright and happy this morning, and dragged me along through the day with her. 

We went for a walk and watched a tractor disk a potato field.

We laid in the hammock.

We went to WD, a market a few miles down the road to stock up on electrolytes and what-not.  It is a tiny grocery store with only the bare essentials.  It has the same linoleum tile floor, dim lighting and size that Proctor's, the only grocery store in Homer when I was a kid, had.  Everything on their shelves is twice as old and twice as expensive than the stores another 7 minutes down the road.  It's a big 7 minutes, though.  A hazy line between rural farmland and box store encrusted Burlington, separated by interstate 5.  This was a day when I couldn't cross the line.  I needed things to stay small scale, familiar, and slow. 

Drew and G never made it out of bed. 

And the boat?  Still dead in the water. 

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