Belly of the Whale

I can't remember the last time I ran in the daylight. It gets dark around four-thirty. Who's got time to stop work that early? I love running in the dark, just the corridor of trees to guide you. The surf seems louder at night, the sea more magical.

I am still eating leftovers from Thanksgiving. I stayed late on Sunday to help clean up and, under threat of the garbage can, I took thirty pounds of pie, stuffing, pie, banana bread, pumpkin bread, tatters, turkey, and more pie. My lord what a take!

Within a week the boat will be in the water. The alternator may be a flop. There may be a story there. We shall see. Now just the final preparations. I'm nervous. Everything is coming to a head, at last.

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I read this somewhere:
He who goes to sea for pleasure,
would as soon go to hell to pass the time.

Something like that, by somebody.