Tag Archives: sail

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All of my patients are smart 3

Human behavior doesn’t surprise me, really. Sometimes it disappoints, depresses, demeans, dispirits and demoralizes. And it’s not the patients. It is the corporate workplace and how it abuses people. And circles the wagons against a threat. Including against employees that it views as threats.

I think all of my patients are smart. “You got this,” I say. I explain what carbohydrates are and that they are in everything, practically, except meat and oil. And some meats have carbohydrates too: shrimp, for example. But my patients can figure this out! My patients rise to the occasion! I am not saying that they do smart things all the time. No one does, including me. Even the smartest ones can do things that are not a good idea or are a really bad idea. Growing up in an addiction household, I think I escaped addiction mostly because I had decided that no adults could be trusted by the time I was three. I thought they loved me but I couldn’t trust them not to give me to someone else. Ironic, that the distrust saved me from taking the same path. My sister took it and is gone. My patients are smart and all I have to do is share my education and experience! They take the ball and run with it! Not all. Sometimes it’s too late and everyone dies eventually.

Corporations, on the other hand, are infuriatingly stupid.

The photograph is me in 2015, sailing my father’s boat with my daughter, in Port Townsend Bay.

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You can have some of the things some of the time

My father’s name is Malcolm Kenyon Ottaway. He went by Mac. He died in 2013. I miss him and I still follow Mac’s Rule.

Mac’s Rule is simple: You can get one third of the things that you think you can get done in a day.

I played with this on my days off for quite a while. I would write a list of all the things I wanted or needed to get done. Once I write the full list, it looks silly. Soon it is clear that he is correct.

When I am working full time in Family Medicine and have a five year old and a new baby, I think about getting something done on the weekend. Clear my desk, organize photographs, that sort of thing. After a while I realize that the weekend was more like this: Meals. Get kids clean and dressed. Laundry for the next week. Clean the house a bit. Do some fun family things! Read to kids and put them to bed! My list changed and instead of the ambitious “organize photographs”, I would think of something very small. Perhaps take one roll of developed photographs, pick some of the duplicates, send them to the grandparents. That was it for the entire weekend.

If I apply Mac’s Rule to my life and list all the things I want to do, which third will I pick? For years I write lists for a day off and then pick the top third that I want to get done. If something is added to the list, a friend calls to go to coffee, I take something else off. I make sure that the list always has something that I need to do on it (and often don’t want to: start taxes, pay bills, clean a bathroom, whatever). And something fun.

I don’t try to do it all. It’s very satisfying to get that 1/3 done on the list. And I feel like superwoman if I get an extra thing done! I get to choose which third to do and think about it. And the stuff that I don’t want to do slowly gets done over time. It isn’t that awful to do one of those duty jobs, thank you letters, tax information, dental appointment, mammogram, every day and then it gets DONE.

I am working with someone who puts RUSH at the start of every single email subject line. I have to say that it makes me want to dig my feet in and not even read the email. What kind of rash haste are they working under and why would I pay any attention to the RUSH by the ninth email? It is annoying and ludicrous. I move those emails to the next day list and don’t read them on the day of arrival. No pressure, so there.

Blessings on my father, for Mac’s Rule.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: rash.

The photograph had to be taken before May 2000, because my mother died on May 15 and she is on the boat. I don’t know who took it, another group sailing. Both my kids are there, my father with the tiller, and I am tucked behind the friend facing the camera. Why haven’t we pulled the motor up? This is Sun Tui, the boat currently in my driveway on a trailer.

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Foul weather gear

My daughter gave me new foul weather pants for sailing for my birthday. She borrowed mine when she started college. She was on the racing team at Western Washington and my pants took a beating. During this visit she put about 1/3 of a roll of duct tape on them for an alumni race in the Lopez Island harbor. I offered to loan her my new pants but she explained that hers are now a tradition, duct tape and all. Her team won the regatta.

Here we are showing off the pants. I got lots of hugs for my birthday too, hoorah. I think my son took the photograph!

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: hug.

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Sherbet skies

We sail on a jaunt into sherbet skies.
The water is gold, the wind is light.
The sky changes color and charms our eyes.
The light is gold sliding into the night.
The boat glides through the water with gentle ease.
Light hand on the tiller, our wake lights up.
We pass peaches and cherries and crackers and brie,
pour tea into each other’s cups.
It’s cooling off so we sit very close.
Phosphorescent creatures trail behind.
Warming each other as we steer the boat.
Darkness falls and we don’t mind.
The sherbet skies call us out to roam
But we are ready to come about towards home.

____________________________

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: jaunt.

Hoping for more peace and tolerance on Juneteenth.

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Sailing with my father

Sailing with my father
after I’m divorced
we take my two children.
They and I are small.
My father is frail,
55 years of Camel cigarettes
in his lungs.
“Papa,” I say, “How would we
pull you in if you went
overboard? We aren’t strong enough.”
Nor is he strong enough
to pull me in.
My father thinks. “You are right,”
he says, “We’ll make a Go Bag.”
A 3 to 1 pulley, with a clip.
We can clip it to the boom
and push it out over the water.
Attach the pulley to the life jacket
and I can winch nearly anyone aboard.
Maybe. We have it in a dry bag,
with towels and chocolate
and a set of sweats,
a space blanket
because the water is cold here,
45-55. My father knows, I’m sure,
that if he falls in, he’d be unlikely
to survive even if I did reel him in,
an unlikely catch. We wear our life jackets
and the kids do too.

One time we hit container ship waves
when my son is on the bow.
He is thrown up and drops, flat,
prone on the bow, holding on.
This boat has no railings
but my children pay attention.

We never have to use the pulley.

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At first my father said that we could unhook the haul down and use the boom, but I said, if it’s me and two little kids and I have to drop sail and get back to someone, that is too hard. How do we make it easier?

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Sun tui

A photograph of a photograph. This is my father, Malcolm Kenyon Ottaway, sailing Sun Tui, our 1960s boat. A 23 foot sloop built in Hong Kong by American Marine. The tiller is a dragon with the world in it’s mouth and inside there is a carving of Kwan Yin.

My father died in 2013. I still have the boat. Needs some work, but hoping I can sail again soon.

I can’t credit the original photographer because I don’t know who it is. It might have been me.

For the Ragtag Daily Prompt: sail.

A dragon with the world in her mouth.
Carving of Kwan Yin (or Guan Yin).
Sun Tui.