I've long been a fan of snow-shoveling.
Bundling up, trekking outdoors, pushing snow around with heavy, non-technical tools like shovels, and the satisfaction of a driveway cleared and a job well-done.
This winter I emailed my dad, who lives three hours west of us and can give me the most accurate weather report of what's about to hit. "Got snow?" I asked.
"Get your dust pans ready," he replied.
The only thing more satisfying than shoveling the deck with a dustpan is going up under the shrinkwrap and beating the plastic so the snow slides off.
It's been a constant 70 degrees inside Mazurka, and now the sewage tank is empty, too. Winter life on board seems pretty good this year.
Though Mark is having second thoughts. Last week, after spending nearly four hours with a guy and a van and helping to pump out the sewage tanks of five of our neighbors, my husband confessed, "The novelty is wearing off."
20080225
20080208
Date Night
Thursday is Date Night - the one night of the week when Mark and I don't schedule anything, and we do something together. Date Night is not always going out - most of the time it's staying home and eating dinner at the table and hanging out.
This week on Wednesday, the red pumpout light signalled it was time to empty the sewage tank.
On Thursday I got home early and decided that I would surprise Mark by taking care of the pumpout by myself. This is not a simple task: we are on the opposite side of the marina as the pumpout hose, and since we can't start the boat and drive on over to the sewage system, we have devised an odd method that, for the most part, works pretty well:
1) Toss one end of the water ski rope 30 feet across the marina to the other dock. (This sometimes takes several tries.)
2) Walk a quarter mile around to the other dock and attach the rope to the pump out hose.
3) Walk back to Mazurka, use the ski rope to pull the pumpout hose across the marina, attach the hose to the port.
4) Walk back to the other side of the marina (or, call one of our neighbors docked on that side) and turn on the sewage pump.
(Are you getting tired of walking back and forth yet?)
5) When the monitor onboard Mazurka reads empty, walk back (or call again) to turn off the sewage pump.
6) Unhook the hose from Mazurka; walk back to the other side to drag the hose across.
Sound exhausting? It is. With two people, you can eliminate the walking back and forth, which saves you 20 minutes. Still, I thought it would be sweet for Mark to come home and find that I had done the job already, and all by myself!
I got the rope across the marina on my first swing - this was a good sign. Problem was, we've had a lot of snow around here lately. The hoses were not only buried under the snow, but one was frozen in a heap of black ice created by plows. One of our neighbors came out to help me dislodge the hose, and we put them together and I ran around to Mazurka and began hauling the hose across the water. It was heavier than normal. After a lot of tugging, I was just getting the hose hooked up to Mazurka when Mark arrived.
With the hose hooked up, we were almost home free. But it wasn't pumping. The reason the hose was so heavy? It was frozen inside. So for about an hour, Mark tended to the hose in the river, waiting for it to thaw. When it finally thawed, he tried it again - still not pumping. So back to the other side of the marina he went, where he and two of our neighbors commenced to pulling apart the sewage system to try and figure out the problem.
Date Night this week looked like the captain in the sewer for two hours, and the first mate in the boat feeling sorry for herself.
Two days later, and River City maintenance is apparently trying to fix the problem. And yes, our sewage tank is still full.
This week on Wednesday, the red pumpout light signalled it was time to empty the sewage tank.
On Thursday I got home early and decided that I would surprise Mark by taking care of the pumpout by myself. This is not a simple task: we are on the opposite side of the marina as the pumpout hose, and since we can't start the boat and drive on over to the sewage system, we have devised an odd method that, for the most part, works pretty well:
1) Toss one end of the water ski rope 30 feet across the marina to the other dock. (This sometimes takes several tries.)
2) Walk a quarter mile around to the other dock and attach the rope to the pump out hose.
3) Walk back to Mazurka, use the ski rope to pull the pumpout hose across the marina, attach the hose to the port.
4) Walk back to the other side of the marina (or, call one of our neighbors docked on that side) and turn on the sewage pump.
(Are you getting tired of walking back and forth yet?)
5) When the monitor onboard Mazurka reads empty, walk back (or call again) to turn off the sewage pump.
6) Unhook the hose from Mazurka; walk back to the other side to drag the hose across.
Sound exhausting? It is. With two people, you can eliminate the walking back and forth, which saves you 20 minutes. Still, I thought it would be sweet for Mark to come home and find that I had done the job already, and all by myself!
I got the rope across the marina on my first swing - this was a good sign. Problem was, we've had a lot of snow around here lately. The hoses were not only buried under the snow, but one was frozen in a heap of black ice created by plows. One of our neighbors came out to help me dislodge the hose, and we put them together and I ran around to Mazurka and began hauling the hose across the water. It was heavier than normal. After a lot of tugging, I was just getting the hose hooked up to Mazurka when Mark arrived.
With the hose hooked up, we were almost home free. But it wasn't pumping. The reason the hose was so heavy? It was frozen inside. So for about an hour, Mark tended to the hose in the river, waiting for it to thaw. When it finally thawed, he tried it again - still not pumping. So back to the other side of the marina he went, where he and two of our neighbors commenced to pulling apart the sewage system to try and figure out the problem.
Date Night this week looked like the captain in the sewer for two hours, and the first mate in the boat feeling sorry for herself.
Two days later, and River City maintenance is apparently trying to fix the problem. And yes, our sewage tank is still full.
20080206
Not What I Wanted to See
Monday afternoon I came home for lunch and as I'm making a salad, I catch sight of somebody's legs outside our door on the dock.
I took a closer look - white guy, mid 40s, balding, standing there, looking around. This is not all that unusual - people will sometimes come out to take pictures of the loop, or just get a view of the river.
But the next thing I know, he's unzipping his jeans and pulling out a body part I have no business looking at.
I open the door and yell, "Hey!" catching him mid-piss, a yellow puddle collecting in the snow right outside our door.
He jumps and puts it away and runs off. As he's high-tailing it down the dock, I hear him calling to one of our neighbors, "I thought you were the only one out here!"
A little later our neighbor comes by to borrow some shrink wrap tape. "Sorry I scared your friend," I told him. "Maybe I should have invited him in to use the head."
Note to those of you helping your boater friends this winter: No matter how appealing it may be to pee on the middle of a dock smack downtown Chicago, try to use some discretion. You never know who's front walkway you're pissing on.
I took a closer look - white guy, mid 40s, balding, standing there, looking around. This is not all that unusual - people will sometimes come out to take pictures of the loop, or just get a view of the river.
But the next thing I know, he's unzipping his jeans and pulling out a body part I have no business looking at.
I open the door and yell, "Hey!" catching him mid-piss, a yellow puddle collecting in the snow right outside our door.
He jumps and puts it away and runs off. As he's high-tailing it down the dock, I hear him calling to one of our neighbors, "I thought you were the only one out here!"
A little later our neighbor comes by to borrow some shrink wrap tape. "Sorry I scared your friend," I told him. "Maybe I should have invited him in to use the head."
Note to those of you helping your boater friends this winter: No matter how appealing it may be to pee on the middle of a dock smack downtown Chicago, try to use some discretion. You never know who's front walkway you're pissing on.
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