Before our sailing trip the other day, Lalsky and I had a Walter Cronkite news flash . . . that all boats and ships are female. Even if a boat has a masculine name (which is probably rare?), it will always be referred to as "she" or "her". In many places, real or imagined, waterways are symbolic of the course of life, and boats are vessels that carry life. Even the shape of boats are kind of vaginal (see photo as case in point).

This was the first outing for Wilma, the sailboat, this year. So, we freed her from the overgrown weeds and scrubbed her clean, readying her for the first sail. The cleaning and scrubbing was satisfying in the way of labour as opposed to work (labour stemming from a sense of care and love, while work stemming more from a sense of duty and maybe obligation). She needed care; she was a vessel of life, after all.

The sailing itself was more technical than I expected, with James, our teacher, patiently enabling us. Lalsky was steering while I was working part of a sail, whose technical name will forever be lodged in my mind as spanakopita. The sail was green and its name meant nothing to me, so I formed a mnemonic link to the Greek pastry with green filling. James was of course the glue that held the entire enterprise together (i.e. prevent capsizing/drowning).

Next time we're going to learn a song that we can sing while scrubbing Wilma.