S.V. CAMBRIA: Word of the Week

History | Word of the Week

Friday, February 10, 2017TheCambrians

I’ve been lax about blogging lately for a multitude of reasons: David went back to the boat to get some jobs done that I can’t be around for (glue and varnish fumes make me sick). I’ve been busy sorting through our things stored here in Kansas in preparation of our next adventure, deciding what to keep and what to get rid of. And politics has completely consumed me, as it has millions of other Americans, in what clearly is a new chapter in our country’s history.

It started three weeks ago when I boarded a bus bound for Washington D.C. to take part in the Women’s March on Washington with 52 other marchers from my hometown of Wichita, Kansas. If you’re not familiar with the geography of the United States, Wichita is smack dab in the middle. It’s the heartland. The Bible belt. And just about as conservative as they come.

I wouldn’t say we were a very diverse group of people and it’d be reasonable to assume that most of us grew up in a similar way. But we all had different reasons for marching, as did the millions of others who took to the streets that day: Women’s rights. Civil rights. LGBTQ rights. Native rights. Environmental rights. Religious rights. Criminal justice reform. Immigration reform. Defense of the Affordable Healthcare Act (Obamacare). Driving home the point that feminism today is intersectional.

I’m still trying to process the experience and can’t begin to explain how it felt to be there, surrounded by an ocean of humanity dressed in pink chanting “this is what democracy looks like” and singing “We Shall Overcome”. It was overwhelming. And truly one of the most important moments of my life. I’m reluctant to use the word “celebration” to describe an event with such serious concerns and goals, but it truly was a celebration of love for our fellow (wo)man and the world we inhabit.

The day wasn’t without its difficulties. The crowd was so large that it was impossible to get anywhere near the stage to hear the speakers . . . or out. Marchers had filled the entire route and there was a short period of time when we heard the event had been cancelled due to the hundreds of thousands of people that had showed up. While we waited to learn our fate, news of sister marches around the world dribbled in and energized the crowd even more: Larger than expected turnouts in Boston, Chicago, Seattle, Los Angeles, London, Paris, Antarctica. We were making history.

Soon a chant from the stage area reached us, declaring it was time: “march on third, march on third”. We slowly made our way north along 3^rd Street to Constitution, ending up on Pennsylvania Avenue. Meanwhile, thousands of other marchers filled the surrounding streets, converging at major intersections as we all made our way to the White House.

Pennsylvania Avenue was lined with bleachers that had been set up for the Inaugural Parade. For Trump, they were nearly empty. But on Saturday, supporters of the Women’s March on Washington all but filled the stands and cheered everybody on. Hands were raised high in the air in a sign of power as the crowd roared. A call from the stands demanded “tell me what democracy looks like” and we responded as loudly as we could with “this is what democracy looks like”, sending goosebumps throughout my body. Just thinking about it does the same. It was an amazing, amazing day.

The days following the march have been a blur of activity. The man who moved into the Oval Office has made sure of this. And the protests continue – at airports, at the homes and offices of Congressmen, at the Super Bowl, at Trump’s properties. Those who aren’t able to show up in person, like me, have been jamming the phone lines to their representative in Congress to voice their concerns and to say no to Trump’s agenda. I’m sure the same would be said about the White House phones if that line was still open to the public, but it’s not – one of the many ways this administration has worked to silence its opposition. The good news is it isn’t working.

Clearly this is just the beginning and I’m sure many of the battles that are fought will be lost. Some already have been. Betsy DeVos, someone who proved herself to be wholly unqualified for the position of Secretary of Education now holds the cabinet position. Jeff Sessions, a man with a long record of civil rights abuses, is now the Attorney General. And the Dakota Access pipeline has restarted construction. But, win or lose, they’re battles worth fighting and history will judge those of us who stood up kindly because we’re on the right side of it, of this fact I’m sure.

What word sums up your week? Join the conversation below in the comments section or on our Facebook page. We’d love to hear from you.

#WotW Word of the Week

March | Word of the Week

Friday, January 20, 2017TheCambrians

#WotW Word of the Week

Landlubber | Word of the Week

Friday, January 13, 2017TheCambrians

David and I have been in Kansas for one month now, acting as temporary landlubbers. If you’ve never heard the term before, a landlubber is someone who’s unfamiliar with the sea and isn’t a sailor. Depending on how it’s used, it can be quite derogatory (just ask any self-respecting pirate). Lubber, after all, means a “clumsy” or “stupid person”. The word has taken on a softer definition over the years and is more often used to describe someone who lives on land: a landlubber. Sadly, that’s us right now . . . and my word of the week.

Since leaving Cambria in December to spend the holidays with my family, we’ve been living on land and have succumbed to all of its trappings: eating out, movies, bars, sporting events, shopping, television . . . even the local zoo. And I have to tell you, we feel like fish out of water: We’re restless. Lost. And disconnected.

Don’t get me wrong. We’re not miserable and are enjoying the relative ease of life on land: No concerns about the weather or the upcoming forecast. Water flows freely straight from the tap. There’s an unlimited supply of electricity. And, yes. It’s nice to flush a toilet rather than pump it out. But Cambria’s our home. Our refuge in a storm. She connects us to nature and to the sea. With her, we know where the sun rises and falls. Which way’s north. From what direction the wind is blowing. Whereas on land, we’re sheltered from those things which can leave us feeling a little out of place.

My life on land is just starting, but David’s will be ending soon. He needs to get back to the boat to take the final steps in getting her ready to sell and it looks like that journey will start sometime next week. Honestly, it’s a bit of a bummer. I know it’s best to divide and conquer (especially when some of that dividing is because paint and glue fumes make me sick) and we both have plenty of work to do to keep us busy. But life is never quite as good without David by my side . . . on land or on the sea.

What word sums up your week? Join the conversation below in the comments section or on our Facebook page. We’d love to hear from you!

#WotW Holidays Word of the Week

(Year in) Review | Word of the Week

Friday, December 30, 2016TheCambrians

#WotW Holidays Then and Now

Christmas | Word of the Week

Friday, December 23, 2016TheCambrians

My choice for this week’s #WotW isn’t very original, but with all the last-minute shopping for gifts, the wrapping of presents and trips to see Santa (and Mrs. Claus) there really was no option that made sense. So, I decided to steal an idea from my blogging-buddy, Liesbet, over on Roaming About to help spice it up a little. It’s called “Then and Now”.

First the then:

When David and I started cruising 15 years ago, we were based in New Zealand where we spent six years and five Christmases. On the surface, Christmas down-under looks the same as its northern counterpart: families sit around tables decked out in red, green and gold sharing a roasted turkey while Santa quietly places beautifully wrapped presents under the tree. But then the obvious hits you: There isn’t any snow for Santa’s sleigh. Everybody’s wearing shorts and t-shirts. And some of those holiday meals are actually picnics or barbecues on the beach. The date on the calendar may read December 25^th(which screams winter for northerners like us) but for Kiwis, it’s the official start of summer.

Most years found us at anchor, opening our presents in the cockpit on Christmas morning with a curious dog (who has since passed away) lurking about to see what Santa had brought her.

But she had to endure all sorts of humiliation before actually receiving her presents.

We always had a small Christmas tree and lights, never failing to get carried away with the amount of gifts we bought each other.

For dinner, David would make a traditional English roast beef dinner with Yorkshire puddings and we'd dine in the cockpit as the day came to a close. We never quite got used to celebrating Christmas in the summer, but it was wonderful time for us all.

And now the now:

Christmas is spent with my family in Kansas. Some years, it’s a mess of parties and family gatherings full of chaos and good cheer. Other years, like this one, it’s pretty quiet. But whether or not everyone's in town to spend the holidays together, it wouldn't be Christmas without a visit to Santa Claus. Every year, I go to work with my sister and help her take pictures of all the kids (both big and small) to send home from school.

On Christmas Eve, someone's in charge of making a large batch of chili . . . and there’s usually a shot or two of Hot Damn to go around, resulting in a garage party with my brother, sisters, nieces and nephews.

But most of us aren't going to be in town this year, so those of us who are went to my nephew's workplace, The Wichita Brewing Company, for an open house instead (i.e. free beer).

Even Santa got in on the action.

Christmas morning starts at my mom's house with breakfast and presents with our 98 year-old grandma.

And then we all go over to my sister's house for turkey dinner.

And awkward family photos in front of the tree.

Ending the day with more garage-time fun with the family (that's a thinly-veiled euphemism for more drinking).

And that's how we spend our Christmases, both then and now – full of laughter, love and alcohol.

http://www.thereadingresidence.com/word-week-231216/

Merry Christmas, everyone! And thank you

so much for sharing your time with us here aboard Cambria

#WotW Holidays Word of the Week

Miles | Word of the Week

Friday, December 16, 2016TheCambrians

This week, the only word that comes to mind is miles. And not the fun, nautical kind. But long, hard highway miles. Every winter, David and I pack up our truck and hit the road to spend the holidays with my family in Kansas. It’s a grueling trip (under the best of circumstances) with more than 1900 miles to cover.

The northern route through Washington, Idaho, Utah, Wyoming and Colorado is the quickest. But it’s also the one that’s most prone to winter weather. Last year, despite keeping a close eye on the conditions, we got caught in a snowstorm and had to sleep at a rest stop along Interstate 80 (I always carry blankets), both coming and going. David was adamant about avoiding a similar situation this year, and so was I.

We’d been trying to get out of Kingston for days, but the weather had been very active. Every time there was a clear forecast for the inland portion of the trip, snow and ice were predicted for the Cascades (the mountain range east of Seattle). And once the conditions for Snoqualmie Pass were clear, the weather had moved east and was affecting the I-80 corridor. So, we looked to the south but the Siskiyou Mountains were posing a similar problem. It was getting frustrating.

Finally, we saw a way through. On Saturday of last week, the weather along the northern route was going to be clear for several days, so all we had to do was find our way to it. Snoqualmie Pass was calling for more snow, but not until the afternoon. Did we want to risk it? I could tell by the tired look on David’s face that the answer was a resounding “no”. But, if we added a hundred miles to the trip by driving south to Portland and then taking I-84 east to I-80, we could avoid the highest elevations. And, as luck would have it, the forecast for the mountains along I-84 was good. The decision was made. We were going.

Our spirits were high: The roads were good, and we were finally moving, and none too soon either – more winter weather was due to hit the Pacific Northwest the next day. But, as we approached Portland, the sky turned grey and it got colder. Some of the trees were completely covered in ice. And then we saw the sign: “I-84 closed.” I have no idea how we missed it in the forecast, but there it was. For a 50-mile stretch along both sides of the Columbia River, the roads were icy and shut down due to several accidents.

We had a decision to make: Do we continue south, adding another 500 miles to an already long trip? Do we wait to see when the road might open? Or do we try to find an alternate route around the closed section of I-84? In the end, we went south. For 34 hours, spread over the course of three days and two road-side motels, we drove and drove and then drove some more through Washington, Oregon, California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas and Oklahoma. Twenty-four hundred miles in total. Maybe my word of the week should be grueling, because it was.

But we’re in Kansas now and are happy to have the miles behind us. It’s always difficult to transition back into life on land, but the excitement of the holidays and spending quality time with family helps soften the blow. Now our days are filled with last-minute shopping trips, Christmas gatherings and (my personal favourite) college basketball games. It’s a far cry from our life on Puget Sound but you know what they say . . .