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It’s late, the wind is blowing, balmy, inviting.  I feel a presence, I turn and look down the long gangway, nothing.  A loose wooden board creeks as a step on it, a metal sign bangs in the wind.  The Erie cry of a Blue Heron, otters call their mothers as they splash and play around the dock. A mother seal teaching her pup to hunt very close to Sookie, the night is alive, winter has stalled. I have this very strange feeling that their is a visitor waiting in Sookie.


Standing on the dock surveying my world I notice a bag in the cockpit.  I tuck in under Sookies storm canvas, grab the bag and climb into my little cocoon.  Two candles lit I peer into the v berth, it’s empty but my bag is not, I pull a delightful bottle of scotch. Stinky cheese, home made bread and fresh fruit, I pour a glass, pull out my uke and pluck the strings.  I struggle through I’m yours, I don’t know the words so I practice my scatting, dum dum do diey do to do dum tie, ahi ey uh, I’m yours, I’m yours…


Sookies small cabin is a lovers paradise, a treasure chest full of memories and my own personal Rathskeller. I light some incense, take a sip, my lips sweet with scotch, turn up the volume. My lungs vibrate, my uke vibrates, the golden walls of Sookies cozy cabin vibrate in unison with the flickering of my candles, nirvana.  The storms have been near constant, the cold will come, winter will come but in less than 6 short weeks, the days will start getting longer, spring is coming.

“Where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”
― Anonymous 

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