A Year and a Day

Last summer, when Mark and I were planning our wedding and figuring out where we were going to live, I committed to one year on Mazurka.

I know my patterns. A lot of times, when thrust into a new situation, I fight and kick and scream and try everything I can to escape - until I just surrender, and then I really, really like it. Like Kindergarten. Like Chicago; for the first two years in this city, I wanted to run screaming like it was still on fire. And then I settled down and realized everything this city has to offer and that it's a fantastic place to live.

I thought maybe the same thing would happen with Mazurka, so I promised to live a full year on board. If I hated it after a year, we could move to land.

On September 30th, we celebrated a year of marriage, a year of living together on this boat. And though there have been some challenges (like the river freezing, the heating system going out, the pump-out overflowing, and trying to prove our Chicago residence), not for one second have I wanted to live anywhere else.

I love Mazurka.

I love coming home to nature every day, in the middle of a huge city. I love the transitory nature of our home - that we are meant to move, that nothing is ever intended to be permanent. And I love lying in bed at night, watching the ripples of water reflected on the ceiling above us.

Mazurka has converted me into a true live aboard.

And for our anniversary, we spent the weekend on the move, riding Mark's motorcycle seven hours north to Door County, and island hopping via ferry to Washington Island and Rock Island. Call it reconnaissance for next year's mission to take Mazurka up through Death's Door....