“Getting old is hell…..but it sure beats the alternative.”

-Captain of Olivia

I am not a “lister” by nature…..in fact I abhor keeping lists of things. It just seems so antithetic to tropical living here at latitude 26.

However….

The older I get the more necessary I find keeping a list of boat projects to be.  And after all, that is a priority in itself. So I set aside a long ago pilfered-from another-employer yellow “writes in the rain” book strictly for lists, drawings, brainstorms and other aspects of keeping ‘Div looking and feeling her best.

Now, instead of trying to remember what it was that I wanted to do next, what project there was to start, continue with or finish, I am constantly trying to remember where I put the stupid little yellow “writes in the rain” book where I keep the essence of the kabala, the incantations so necessary to keep the various chores moving ahead. It seems to be as slippery as its cover, and I am forever asking the admiral, or the crew (or any other individual who happens to be nearby for that matter);

“Have you seen the little yellow book? I know I placed the &%$^# thing down right there not more than thirty minutes ago….”

And then as if by magic the stupid thing materializes in some completely different area long after the need for it has passed. How did it end up with the stern anchor line in the lazarette fer cryinoutloud? I know I had it in the forepeak just ten minutes ago……

I do not believe that this is entirely my fault though. How could it be?

The little yellow “writes in the rain” book seems to be possessed, it seems to have a life of its own, its own maniacal cellulose brain, and it seems to have it in for yours truly.

Maybe it’s the soul of the trees so unceremoniously cut down in the prime of their existence to produce mere paper, and not the bulwarks of boats…..

I do not know the reasons “why” but the thing mocks my best efforts at organization, and will often conceal itself in an area that I have meticulously cleaned and reorganized, causing an ensuing snarl of rubble as it burrows down through piles of tools and stacks of papers, never reappearing until long after its usefulness has passed. The little yellow “writes in the rain” book is an infernal poltergeist that I summarily hate, but cannot live without. It is the stuff that Alfred Hitchcock would adore, a vicious, scornful entity bent on ravaging the innocent, wrecking revenge on the unsuspecting.

So I end up duplicating the same lists on small scraps of paper napkins, empty matchbooks, discarded paper bags or the like, all crammed into my pockets to become unintelligible masses of pulp after the spin cycle.

They do not seem to have a possessed life of their own….

During this most recent project, the construction of ‘Divs new bimini. I dedicated a master page in the yellow “writes in the rain” book just for drawings, materials, lists and other related items, only to have the whole thing disappear into the void and blackness again before I could even make the first trip to the hardware store for stainless steel screws.

And the guys there know it too.

When I pulled out a small piece of aluminum pipe on which I’d carefully penciled in the quantity, length and thread pitch for my chosen fasteners, the clerk just chuckled and remarked; “lost your little yellow “writes in the rain” book again eh?”

I will not have them believe that I am absentminded, or, growing old and feeble, becoming a victim of the dreaded mentalpause, or worse yet, oldtimers disease. Even more nefarious, I would not let them know my true belief that this book is possessed by evil mal-intent,  and so I casually replied:

 “Nahhhhh, the darn thing is just full, and I haven’t had a chance to buy a new one yet.”

I gathered up the eight dollars worth of 10-24 screws, nuts and washers and paid for them.

As I was on my way out the door, the clerk caught up with me and handed me my little yellow “writes in the rain”  book, and said, laughing;

“You left it on the counter last time you were in here.”

That was their perception though.

In reality, it looks like my arch enemy is expanding his infernal hiding territory. I am going to have to increase my vigilance accordingly. Maybe as punishment I’ll have to confine him to the tool locker on the starboard side.

The one that I just reorganized.