Wilbur is sad

This is what a sad little pit bull looks like.
Why is Wilbur so sad?
He feels bad because not all pitties are loved as much as he is.
Far too many of them are being thrown away like garbage and usually after being starved, beaten, and sometimes even shot.

I read a lot of blogs written by owners of rescued pit bulls and their stories are unbelievable. The amazing thing is though, that these dogs who were treated so cruelly by so called human beings are still full of love and affection. One dog in particular that I read about was found in a dumpster. She was grossly underweight and had open sores all over her but when a policeman opened up the lid and discovered her, she wagged her tail. She's now in foster care and well on her way to getting a forever home with loving owners.

Another pit bull was tossed into a mall parking lot in Texas during last summers heat. She had almost no hair due to mange and was lying there on the scorching pavement in 110 degree temperatures until someone found her and took her to the vet. She was also starving and suffered from heart worms, mange, a destroyed eye, and then they discovered she was pregnant. She has had a long and painful recovery but she gave birth to a litter of beautiful pups who've all been placed in homes. Recently during her heart worm treatment the vets discovered she'd been shot in her rear end. Through all of this she has remained very sweet and loving and we all hope the rest of her time on this earth will be fear and pain free.

Anyway the cost for the treatment for these dogs can be very high as we all know. Some vets are kind enough to offer a discount which helps but it's still expensive.

The latest pit bull who needs help is named Shy. You can read about her here and here.

Shy has been living at a vet clinic for quite some time and they think she may even have a future home but she still needs cataract surgery as she's going blind.



If anyone would like to make a donation I tried to add a chip in button to this post (If I failed, you can find it at Two Pitties blog). Any amount will be very much appreciated and if you have paypal it's a breeze. Just a couple of bucks is all it takes.

Let's put a smile like this back on Wilbur's face!!!

Sewing Bloggers Meet

Mary, from MarySews, was kind enough to let me know that if we were able to finally motor into the Daytona, FL area we should let her know so we could meet.

Well after a very eventful trip through the Intracoastal I honestly started to think we'd never arrive, and then TAAADAAA! There we were!

Mary and her husband Paul came by last night and we hope they had a nice visit. Wilbur insisted on being the Welcome Wagon and he barged into our photo op!

We had a wonderful visit, and Mary and Paul were so nice and offered their services should we need them.

The last blogger I met was Marji from Fiber Arts Afloat and I get such a kick out of what a small world it is after all!

More motoring than sewing or sailing.

One of the problems with the Intracoastal is that even though you may have a sail boat you are going to motor almost the whole way. But anyway at least we're finally in Florida and closer to sailing than we have been in weeks.


We arrived in St. Augustine, FL on Monday and ended up staying until today. Hans had replaced a pulley on our raw water intake and we ended up with problems. Seeing smoke pour out of the exhaust instead of fresh water is never a good thing. We hope it's finally fixed but at least this extra time allowed us to meet some fellow cruisers and we all ended up going out to a Martini Bar last night. We had a great time visiting and sharing both good stories and bad. It's always nice to hear that you're not the only people who seem to get into fixes with your boat. I was thankful that I actually had one pair of jeans that don't have huge holes in the knees. Believe it or not I've mended both a pair of jeans and a pair of capris but they continue to rip anyway! Boats are hard on everything.


Earlier in the day when we were walking around St. Augustine I happened upon a quilt store and went in to buy some thread and as I was paying for it I apologized for our appearance. I promised them we weren't derelicts even though we certainly looked like it. They were probably afraid we'd come in to rob them.


Here is our boat as seen from the bridge.
This beautiful building is now Flagler College. It was originally built as a hotel and by today's standards would cost about a thousand dollars a day to stay there! Hans said he felt like he was in Spain as the Spanish influence is still really strong here.

Even though it was cool, we were able to keep the cockpit door open until bedtime. As I sat in the salon and read for a while I could see the foggy lights of the bridge in the distance.

We finally set out again today and will have to anchor tonight. One of our fellow boaters arrived at an anchorage awhile ago and called us to let us know that his anchor held nicely and that there is room for us.

Tomorrow we hope to arrive in the Daytona Area (Port Orange) in the afternoon and Hans is itching to watch the Super Bowl.

Some more boat sewing and Wilbur jumps ship!

I made some pot holders a while back and decided I may as well use them on the boat. You can see that I have them stacked upright in my pantry area, and in my spice bin.

I put them beside a can of Pringles (the super stack sized) and you can see how big they are. Actually, they make great trivets.

I pleated and re-sewed another part of what was originally a purse storage bag and hung it in the guest head.

Yesterday we ended up staying an extra day at our marina because Hans had to replace some plumbing. When our boat was winterized someone at the boat yard didn't drain all the water out properly and a brass pipe burst. This extra time allowed me to mount my new storage bins.

They're in our guest berth but I stuck our bottles of sunscreen in one, clothes pins in another, and some clothing in the last one. I have enough of this stuff remaining to make another set.

It's all about storage on a boat!

Last but not least, Wilbur snuck off the boat this morning as we were getting ready to cast off. Hans and I were both in the cockpit trying to remove our grill and I was positive I'd heard Wilbur's tags jingle. We had the engines running and and Hans was going to get our dock lines ready to release. That's when I wondered why Wilbur wasn't in the cockpit with us as he's always getting in the way. After checking the salon area and then our berth and not finding a dog, I started becoming alarmed. Hans insisted he'd just seen him in our berth so I went below again and pounded the covers in order to make sure he wasn't hiding.

He wasn't.

That's when I lost it. Hans turned off the engines and I jumped onto the dock and started screaming Wilbur's name. I was trying to peer under the boat when someone way up the dock yelled out to me. "Up here" he shouted, and I saw about three people looking out into the parking lot. I started running as fast as I could and as I approached the end of the dock, I saw Wilbur coming back toward the men who'd been calling for him. I was shaking so bad and breathing so hard I'm surprised I was able to remain standing.

I have no idea what possessed him to jump over (it was a big drop too!) and it must have been a pretty fast maneuver on his part since Hans and I were right there! Yesterday when I took him for a walk he was fascinated with an area right behind a white car. He pulled me over to it several times and nearly inhaled the pavement he sniffed so hard. That's pretty much where he was when we found him and it must have been preying on his mind all night long to get back to that spot.

This is what a baaaaad pitty looks like after getting caught. Once we hauled him back on the boat he hightailed it to our bunk.

He's always on a tether when he's in the cockpit but from now on when we're ready to cast off I'm going to close him in our berth.

Sewing at Sea Once Again.

We got back on the boat a very eventful 2 weeks ago. We sailed out of frigid Charleston, SC and finally (FINALLY!) arrived in Florida yesterday. And I have to tell you, anchoring in sub freezing weather isn't fun. But on the other hand it was better than some of the crazy things we've endured on this trip.

The worst thing that's happened so far is when Hans fell into the water at 4 AM while trying to retie our dock lines. The water was 46 degrees and we're very lucky that he only ended up needing seven stitches in his hand.




So here's my sewing machine in the salon area of the boat. I was fortunate enough to have a few free hours while on shore power one day and was able to get some mending done.



My sewing supplies are in a plastic caddy that I found on sale at Michael's. It's nice and flat and I'm able to store it upright in one of our lockers.

And since space is such an issue on boats I took a stab at coming up with a solution of my own.

This odd looking thing is a 'purse holder'. I found it at Target and thought maybe I could use it to store towels etc... but there is just no where on the boat where I can hang it.

So I tore the big stinker apart and restitched it.

I ripped the holders off of one side, left the others in place, and then pleated and stitched the length of one long edge.

I realize my information is sketchy so maybe this picture will help a little.


I now have pleated pouches that can hopefully be velcroed to a wall of our guest berth. They can hold socks, undies, swimsuits... which is kind of necessary since all the storage space normally used for clothing has been taken over with all our food provisions.

And I can use the remaining pouches (removed from the opposite side) to make another one.








Wilbur grew bored with my sewing and took a nap.


I've been waiting for some normal weather before I try to stick the velcro to the wall. When I do, I'll take a picture.


I have to say that I'm very happy I brought my sewing machine with me.

I only wish I actually had time to sew.

'Tis the Season

We're still tying up loose ends of things that need to be taken care of before getting back on the boat (and we're really hoping that Hans' new Canadian passport gets here on time!), and believe it or not I've been doing a little bit of sewing. But instead of boring you with those details I'll post about the holiday season instead.

Christmas has come to mean many things to me over the years.


When I was in the first grade it was the sheer excitement of making paper chains for our Christmas tree out of green and red construction paper, watching The Grinch and Rudolph on TV, fighting with my sister over who got to hang what on the tree, Santa Claus, and of course all those wonderful presents.


When I had kids of my own, it was all about waiting until they were asleep (which seemed to take forever) so I could try to quietly sneak all their presents under the tree, and I can still remember how thrilled they were when I (with a lot of drama) complained that Rudolph and his cronies had left chomped up bits of carrots all over our deck, and did anyone happen to see Santa's sleigh tracks (made at around 3 AM with a broom handle) on the deck?


Then I was suddenly single with two jobs, and three kids who didn't care if I put up a tree or not as long as they got presents. Honestly, I tried to keep the Christmas spirit alive, but it's tough when December was the month the township snowplow knocked over my mail box and when I called my dad for help, I had to first get past my mother (who doesn't have a job but wants to tell me about what a bad day she's had and how my father is driving her crazy). It's the December where it snowed every single day and I found myself shoveling the driveway (in between my two jobs) at both 7 AM and midnight thus leaving me feeling like a wrung out dishrag, or the infamous December when the muffler fell off my car and the starter on my daughter's car died, and the only time I had left to shop for presents was Christmas Eve.


And finally, December is the month of the company Christmas party. The entire month.

Oh sure, Christmas parties are just peachy keen and tons of fun when you're an attendee of one or perhaps two, but just try being a waitress for an entire month times ten years of them and then see how you feel.

Putting up with beer deaf drunks, bossy wives who envision themselves as Mistress of the Manor, discovering the freezer is broke when it comes time to serve 48 scoops of liquid ice cream, struggling with fifty pound trays of dirty dishes on your shoulder all night long because for some reason everyone wants to congregate in the only narrow doorway to the room...


I did this for over ten years and I'll never forget the weekend I clocked in over 32 hours (in addition to my full time job) from Friday night to Sunday evening at a beautiful private club. I still remember how tired I was on Friday night (and was already wondering how the hell I would make it through Sunday) after the first party ended at around 2 AM and we still had to tear down the banquet tables and put up round ones for Saturday's brunch.


After Saturday's brunch we tore down those tables, completely rearranged the dining room, ordered pizza, and folded about a thousand napkins in preparation for The Big Party. The Big Party was thrown by a wealthy local contractor who employed a lot of townspeople, and we were to be on our best behavior.


I knew it would be an interesting night when I saw men arriving in everything from filthy jeans and flannel shirts to leisure suits and cowboy boots, to women in ball gowns and homemade tattoos to flannel shirts and cowboy boots.


At these parties the waitstaff is usually given three to four tables of eight to ten people each. The menu is set; meaning everyone gets the same soup and salad, and a choice of three entrees (beef, fish, chicken, and the occasional vegetarian dish). This allows everything to run smoothly (for the most part) and hopefully a good time is had by all.


I immediately knew I was in trouble when I discovered that one of the men I had to wait on had such tremendous BO that it made my eyes smart and I felt like I had my nose jammed deep in his armpits all night long. He exacerbated the problem by dousing himself with an entire bottle of Aqua Velva and I then spent the rest of the night taking a deep breath before launching myself at his table, expelling it after I left, and ended up feeling like a Japanese pearl diver for the remainder of the evening.

I felt very bad for the man at my next table who had a terrible speech impediment and I acted like I didn't notice it at all and was very patient even though we were expected to get our orders to the kitchen 'yesterday'!

No one understood that their Prime Rib would be 'medium' (and no I can not turn medium into rare!) and all the men ordered an end piece. Just how many end pieces do you think a prime rib has I wanted to ask.


As I was madly clearing soup cups, dropping off salads, refilling water goblets, and serving drinks, a man from a neighboring table (not mine) flagged me down, and since I had to be polite and couldn't say "Sorry you're not my station," I was forced to acknowledge him.
He was of the 'filthy jeans' club and he and his cronies were having quite the wild time. He was laughing so hard he could barely speak but unfortunately he did. "I want you (by now he was doubled over with laughter), I want you (snicker, snicker) to take this ( he held up his cup of untouched french onion soup) to that table ( he pointed to a table clear across the room) and tell them (snicker, snicker, and by now his friends were guffawing with laughter too) that it's from me." I was stunned, decided to take my chances (after all it was my word against his), said, "No," and walked away.


In the middle of trying to serve the main entree one of my customers stopped me and instructed me to watch him. He then went through a very dramatic demonstration wherein he performed a magic trick and bent a spoon. By now I was numb with disbelief as I'd realized earlier in the evening that this particular group of construction workers were the very ones responsible for building the elementary school that all of my children had attended. I still thank God that I never possessed that nugget of information when my kids were younger or I probably would have ended up with ulcers because I surely would not have been able to afford send them to private school.

Anyway, the magician waited with bated breath for my praise."Wow!" I exclaimed, and he glowed with pride. "Honest to God!" and here I placed my hand over my heart and he sat up even straighter. "I haven't seen that trick since the sixth grade, and I wasn't impressed with it then either!" As I walked away his friends howled with laughter and punched him in the arm.


I did feel horrible though when the man with the speech impediment gave me hell on one of my trips to his table. He had been shut off at the bar for being drunk, was very upset, and implied that I was the one responsible. I'd only served him one beer and having no idea what he was talking about I assured him I'd done no such thing, but he never did believe or forgive me.


After dinner, along with clearing tables, we were required to continue running drinks for everyone. I was standing at the bar waiting to place an order when the bartender, without missing a beat, and while shaking a whiskey sour said to me, "Laura, would you please go into the kitchen and see if you can find the remainder of this gentleman's tie? He seems to have misplaced it." It took me a moment but I looked at the man next to me and nearly died when I saw that his necktie did indeed stop short about three quarters of the way up his shirt front. I felt my face burn and I waited in horror for the 'gentleman' in question to raise hell about being insulted. Instead, he gave me a big smile and after he left I realized he was same man who'd been ordering CC & gingerale from me all night long (and lucky for me I hadn't noticed the tie issue since he'd been sitting down) but was really getting 'well' whiskey and 7UP because the bartender said he'd never notice.


An executive and his wife got into huge fight and she retaliated by flinging herself all over the dance floor in a very low cut gown with one of the construction workers, who having no idea he was being used, turned beet red with the unexpected pleasure of being chosen, and the exertion of trying to keep up with her.


The last of the guests left at around 2 AM and once again we had to rearrange the whole dining room for Sunday's brunch. Only then were we finally able to sink our exhausted bodies into the comfortable sofas of the darkened bar and enjoy the moon sitting low over the frozen lake. With beers in hand we gossiped about the single 'sequined evening gown' who seemed to spend quite a bit of time with the married 'Fu Manchu mustache', found out some of the guests had taken bets on which would happen first; the executives wife's dress would 'fail' or her dance partner would drop dead, and we all tried to figure out a remedy for getting the smell of sour sweat out of my nostrils.


We got through Sunday's brunch, and re-set for a late afternoon company party which I'm sorry to say was very staid and therefor very boring (ie: no sequins, magic tricks, cowboy boots, or dirty dancing), and finally after cleaning up the dining room from that party I went home.


I'm still not overly fond of Christmas, mostly because I will never forget the overwhelming feeling of futility I endured for so many years, so it shouldn't be a huge surprise to hear that I still don't put up a tree or decorate (but I'm not a complete Scrooge and have stored all my treasured ornaments in a box in my sister's basement).






But Hans is a whole different story. You can see Hans has put up not just one, but three trees!! I just shook my head and said, "Fine, but you're the one who gets to take them down after Christmas!"

So on that cheerful note, I would like to wish you one and all a Happy Holiday Season!

Still sewing but no longer at sea.

Not that we were really at sea per se but anyway we're back on land for now.

Our girl sprung a rather scary leak in South Carolina which resulted in her being hauled out of the water for some extensive (funny how that rhymes with expensive) repairs.

When people ask us where she is, we reply (with a wink) that she's currently at a spa (code speak for drying out!), and will be back in the water after the holidays. Until then we are now back in the Big City.

All I know is, I was very anxious to pick up my Wilbur from Day Care where he'd been held captive for three weeks. He looked very fit and a bit slimmer (no doubt the result of running around like a maniac with all his friends for five hours a day), and upon arriving home, and except for eating and going potty, slept for three days straight.

Here he is with his hedgehog, the only stuffy he hasn't destroyed. He often falls asleep with Hedgy in his mouth.

I love nautical charts and find them to be strangely fascinating.

I copied some of my favorite places that we visited this summer, Solomons Island, Tangier Island etc... onto fabric.

Here is a wristlet I made out of one of the panels.

The back.

I wish the colors were more intense and wonder if I should try a store like Kinkos instead of my own printer.

A close up of one the the Cays (pronounced Keys) in the Bahamas.

We are desparately hoping our girl quits giving us problems and allows us to get over there in January.

Some panels that will hopefully be made into purses of some kind.

A couple of years ago when we were in Ireland I bought some heavily embroidered fabric.

I finally decided that it'd been sitting around long enough and made a version of Nicole Mallalieu's Beach Bag. The embroidery print is huge and therefor really needed to be displayed on something big.

This is the back.

And the front.

I kept things pretty simple and only added one slip pocket on the inside.

Although I did add a zippered gusset closure.

Not difficult but a bit time consuming.

Since the bag was so simple, and I had some brown webbing, I dressed up the handles a bit.

The webbing is on the underside of the handles and with the addition of D-Rings they actually took longer to make than the entire bag did!

I still have no idea where I misplaced one of the fitted queen sized sheets that we need for our boat's guest berth, so I'm going to have to buy one and add elastic to its corners (so it doesn't 'pull out').

And when we move onto the boat after Christmas, along with tons of provisions, my sewing machine will be coming with me!! Yaaaay! I would love to think that I can continue to make some fun (and most likely small) purses but I've also heard about these nasty mosquito-like pests called no-see-ums, and I plan on sewing some hatch covers out of no-see-um netting.

It might not be couture sewing but if we can sleep without being bitten alive...it'll be well worth it!

What are the chances?

Yesterday we motored past the Figure Eight Bridge in North Carolina (and we were lucky enough to arrive about 3 minutes before its opening). Only one other boat came through with us and like we always do, we looked it over. We like to see what kind of boat it is, what kind of rigging or equipment they have, where its from, and what its name is.


Hans was pretty sure it was an Island Packet (we have an Island Packet Cat) and then he remarked, "It's from Michigan." I looked up at that time and saw its name was Far Niente.

Now wait a minute, I thought. How many Island Packets from Michigan are going to have that name.

I'm pretty sure Hans thought I was crazy when I told him I thought I might know who they were.

I got on the radio, requested they go to channel 68 and asked if Marji was on board.


When I heard a woman start laughing, I knew I had it right!


Yes folks, Marji from Fiber Arts Afloat (and SV Far Niente) passed us in the Intracoastal Waterway!! I had checked her sailing blog earlier but she hadn't posted on it recently so I had no idea she was anywhere near us.


And even so, what are the chances that we'd actually pass like ships in the night?

I'm sorry, I just had to write that!

I've been a very bad blogger, but I sort of have an excuse!

While this may seem like an idyllic picture of our boat, don't let it fool you!

We are now into day ten of our trip from Kent Narrows, Maryland to Jacksonville, Florida via the Intracoastal.

So far we've experienced three feet of water in a locker, an overnight sail that involved 30+ knot winds with 3-5 feet of swelling waves (at 3 AM one of them playfully washed over the stern, Hans head, and then crashed around the cockpit), a puking crew (that would be me!), and freighters that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Our GPS, also known as 'Fritz', decided to take advantage of our agony and took his union break. Fritz now does as he pleases and just dares us to turn him into the 'Big Boss'.

Big Boss or not, Fritz will be replaced when we reach Charleston, SC.

There is three feet of water in that locker.

We finally figured out that while our girl was on the hard this summer, the drain from a locker at the bow of our boat was leaking. For two months rain water accumulated here and it was stinky and gross!

We ended up replacing the hoses ourselves and lost a full day of sail.

Hans McGyver rigged up a syphon to the bilge, therefore we didn't need to buy a pump!

Along with the portable ice maker that we bought, good old Evan Williams tried to make me forget my troubles.

This is our salon area. This summer Wilbur wreaked havoc on the cushions so I decided to made some covers.

I used some old king size sheets and while they worked, I'll use better fabric if I ever do this again.

The cushions vary in size so I used a Sharpie and wrote the designation for each piece on its elastic.

Hopefully they'll improve the life of my cushions for awhile.

We are currently in North Carolina and expect to be in the Cape Fear River tomorrow.

I have to say this has certainly been a very interesting trip and I don't expect that it will change.

Hurry Up and Wait

We left Swansboro this morning and even though it's a beautiful sunny day, we're not going to get very far.  That's because we're back to dealing with bridges and a lack of anywhere to anchor or dock once nightfall approaches.  We'd love to get into Wrightsville Beach today and maybe we would have if we'd have gotten out of our slip before 7 AM.  But it was dark and it's too easy to keep on sleeping...

By the way, if you ever want to be thoroughly entertained;  find your nearest drawbridge, make some popcorn,  pull up a chair, and be prepared to enjoy yourself.

Why the big rush to get to a drawbridge that you know won't open for another 15 minutes to half hour, or even an hour (we once missed an hourly bridge by 5 minutes)?  Is it a need to be the first in line? Is there a prize waiting for the 'winner'?  All I know is that after being passed by lots of boats (the Knotty Cat likes to take her time or maybe all those cases of beer she's hauling really do weigh her down) we all eventually end up in one big snarled mess in front of a bridge. Today was a classic.  Two small sailboats who were obviously traveling together and refused to be separated were sucked right up to a swing bridge.  Some bigger motor boats also crowded in and even though we hung back the next thing we knew, the bigger boats were revving up in reverse and the little sail boats were bobbing around like ninnies and one nearly ran into the bridge support. The bridge operator kept trying to hail the out of control sailboat and tell it to please start through as soon as the bridge swung open (in the opposite direction thank God) but they never answered. Then the chatter started, "Doesn't he have a radio?",  "I know he has a radio." "Why is he sitting there? Does he want us to go first?"

I got out my trusty binoculars and saw that the captain and his 'woman' were standing in the cockpit and apparently weren't taking calls.  Just when it seemed like the big boats were going to charge through, the two little sailboats got into the act and like two little old jaywalking women, crippled their way through the opening.

Hans calls this Dancing with the Stars.

As of 3:00 we are now waiting at another bridge that opens on the hour and the sad thing is, we could have been here at 2:00. But clear back at Swansboro we had 2-3 knot winds working against us and were only doing 4 knots while motoring at 6.  When we realized we wouldn't make the bridge we dropped to one engine and slowed down. Of course the current changed completely and started pushing us like crazy and when we were two miles away from it, the bridge opened.  We ended up waiting 45 minutes. 

In the end it doesn't really matter because were going to dock at Harbor Village Marina as there are no more docks until Wrightsville, and I don't see any good anchorage areas.  Wrightsville is over 20 miles away with yet one more hourly bridge (they all stop opening at 7 PM) and with the current acting like a woman who can't make up her mind I don't want to get stuck in the middle.

In addition to all that, our GPS is still giving us fits and takes a nap (we call it a union break) every day. Fritz (as we've named him) usually wakes up just as we're anchoring or docking and acts like nothing is wrong what so ever.

Won't Fritz be surprised to find that his replacement is awaiting us in Charleston, SC? 

No one sleeps on watch!