I haven’t e-mailed the folks in my address book to tell them about this blog because I can’t figure out how to get all those names into a blind address window. And while I could include them in the “cc” window, I know some people don’t like their addresses broadcast. This means that if I have an audience for this blog, it is minuscule, at best. Which in itself isn’t bad, because I have to make a confession, and if you can do this with only a handful of witnesses, it is somehow less embarrassing. (Read More…)

I may have told this story before. The really good ones tend to get repeated. It was November 2005, and I had received a call from the Annapolis Harbormaster’s Office. (Read More…)

I’m eating oatmeal raisin cookies in Robin’s saloon after lunch. There are three people who wouldn’t like this if they knew. (Read More…)

It was 25 degrees on land, but from the parking lot I could see there was no ice on Mill Creek. I had a plan for dealing with the expected cold air inside Robin on my first day of the week in Maryland. (Read More…)

Some mornings, there is a skim of ice in the marina fairways here on Mill Creek. It doesn’t last long. Soon after the workers arrive, one of them walks along the docks, flipping switches that start the bubblers moored to pilings in empty slips. (Read More…)

I’m sitting at the saloon table of Robin, my Westsail 32, with the laptop open and running, a keyboard on my thighs. It’s just past 7 a.m., daylight but still gray outside, so the three cabin lights that are burning give a comforting glow in here. (Read More…)