a hand-tossed update in three parts:

it's amazing how working on bad equipment makes me not want to write. give me a nice room, a good cup of coffee, and a monitor that won't make me go blind and i'm positively prolific. sitting on a chair with a questionable stain in a trailer, bathed in harsh neon illumination, squinting the screen in a futile attempt to read what i think i've typed [is that an 'e' or a 's'?] i entertain the idea that i just might go completely mad.

it's finally gotten colder here. this has no effect on the ever persistent sun, which is so-far unfaltering. I'm getting land-life cravings: getting up after the sun rises for a ride to the coffee shop, doing nothing of consequence all day, spending the night at the bar with friends, coming in late, making a midnight snack, sleeping in until i'm not hungover... simple pleasures that boat life just doesn't afford.

i'm writing this in the galley. after dinner i'll make my way across the boat yard to the afore mentioned trailer w/shitty monitor. there i will turn this hand written mess into what you are reading right now. the galley is an odd mix of hot and cold. this thermal phenomenon can be blamed in part on the absence of the galley doors [they're being stripped and re-varnished at an undisclosed location] the heat comes from the ever toasty-warm diesel oven. i'm sitting on my orange five gallon galley bucket, nestled in the corner by the oven which is emitting the hunger inspiring smell of baking bread and roasted garlic. dinner tonight goes as follows: spaghetti with a fresh vegetable red sauce, buttery roasted garlic rolls, and hand-tossed caesar salad. [it's funny how terms like 'hand-tossed' make things sound tastier]. i love the calm comfort of sitting in a warm galley wrapped in the smells of a meal.