And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by,
And the wheel's kick and the wind's song and the white sail's shaking,
And a grey mist on the sea's face, and a grey dawn breaking.
I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.
I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,
To the gull's way and the whale's way, where the wind's like a whetted knife;
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick's over.
Remember this poem by John Masefield? I was forced to memorize it in fifth grade and it still sticks in my head. Edna Miller (the teacher) who made me stutter through that in front of a laughing class of 10-year old's must have been prophetic in realizing the ocean would turn out to be one of the loves of my life.
Currently, my brain is throbbing right above the spot where the dental hygienist numbed me and did one of those deep cleanings yesterday. She must have accidentally hit on my last nerve with that needle full of novacaine. And the back. Oh the back. It was a mess before the roadtrip and I'm still strapping on an icy hot patch everyday to keep the ache manageable. And then there's the weird flu bug I acquired on Saturday . . . .
If only I could soak in some warm saltwater! We have a beach countdown that's less than a month. The weather in Phoenix is unseasonably wonderful this week with highs in the 70's and 80's for a few days, but I know by mid-June, I won't feel guilty leaving!
Just dreaming of spending a day right in this spot! Maybe I could throw the ache out with the seawater!
And then there's that annoying dead Bug that's once again extorting us for an amount equal to a plane ticket to paradise. We received the ransom note yesterday. Hmmmmmm. A Bug in the garage or a ride to heaven? Caribe take me away!