I have a real big blog building in me but it's too late for it now. Today I printed out ALL my blogs. My goodness, they take up a lot of paper. Quite daunting, really. Also humbling. Who am I to use up so many trees?

I'm still living in two time frames: ship-time and home-time. The one thing that reconciles me to home is my balcony, sitting out on it (and working) surrounded by trees. It's not the ocean, of course, but I pretend that the traffic noise (from Bloor Street across the ravine) is waves. And every morning (at 6) when I swim, I miss the ship pool. My pool is longer but it doesn't have the current or the under-tow, so it's not quite the work-out. Still, I make do.

Right now, it's later than it should be but I'm going out on the balcony with a nightcap and let the waves (traffic) lull me to sleep.

Tomorrow I'm going to talk about being mortal.

I fall a little more behind. How does that line go: "the hurrier I go, the behinder I get"? Not that I'm hurrying. I actually start out each day quite efficiently but as the day progresses I seem to lose initiative and end up puttering. Not that puttering isn't useful. I do some of my best work when I putter. But it's dismaying to putter when there is so much REAL WORK to be done.

I think I'm missing people, the new friends I made on the ship. I am by nature a loner and I certainly sought out space to be alone on board. But there are times of the day now when I really miss the people I played, drank, ate and talked with. It's when I pause for breath, between my tasks - and they are myriad - that I miss them, a lot. Soon I will begin to write them. Not yet. Too many other things to do, write, tidy up, sort, file and put away.

And another blog to write before I sleep.

Anon,anon.