There's an old saw about "the two best days in a man's life - the day he buys a boat, and the day he sells it".

Well, I can concede the first sentiment, but the second one couldn't be farther off.

I've put Soulstice up for sale on craigslist.

                                                


This picture is from happier times - back when we would go sailing several times a month.

We don't do that any more, and Ethel has finally - or is it more "definitely"? - stated that she has become bored with sailing, and with the sailboat.

That leaves me with two problems - the first being that it's not all that easy to raise the mast and launch a 26' sailboat, nor is it that easy to get it out of the water, by oneself - and sailing it can become dangerous if the winds pick up too much.

The other problem is that it means taking a weekend day away from Ethel, and I'm just way too crazy about her to do that. I didn't marry her so that I could go do stuff without her. Were it just a matter of a few hours, that would be one thing - but the fact that it takes so long to get the boat in, and out, of the water means that, if I'm going to sail at all, it's pretty much an all-day affair (and going to that much effort to sail for a couple of hours wouldn't make any sense, even if there weren't the time factor).

So I've put her up for sale.

This makes me sad (I'm not going to address, right now, the semantic issues in that statement. I'm just gonna go ahead and be sad, and hope that it passes. Most things do).  I've not been real happy about the move to Arizona, but some of my best Arizona memories involve just being on that boat, on that beautiful blue water, and feeling the wind as it filled our sails and the cheery laughter as the boat would begin to heel.

"The evil that boats do lives after them - the good is oft interred with their bones. So let it be with Soulstice". That's sort of what this feels like - there's a sort of "go ahead, amputate" resignation associated with it. Pretty soon, if the boat sells, there will be a big empty spot in the yard where the boat was before - it was always waiting there, like a nautical Labrador, waiting for us to leash it up and take it for a sail (sorry if I'm mixing my metaphors here).

And if it doesn't sell, then it will be like a skeleton in the closet - its very presence, neglected and unwanted, a weight on my heart - "while my sailboat gently weeps".

I'm not sure what this means about our relationship - what happens when she gets bored with me? Will she put an ad in Craigslist? - "FREE TO GOOD HOME - husband. Bald, built like a fireplug, good with children but often noisy. Will deliver anywhere in the North Valley".

Now I've got the ukulele chords from "You Are The Everything" by REM in my head - they fit my mood.

Go ahead - amputate.