Would I have gotten to knit underwater in Bonaire? No!
Would I have slept in a cliff-clinging, one room cabin that has no bathroom, forcing me to moon Escanaba--twice? No way, Jose!
In that case I'm glad I'm not a cartographer. Really glad because I love my life, my family, my job, and my friends (even though most of them are total whackjobs).
January 3--Jacometto, Alvise Contarini. His whole life since he was a little boy Al wanted to go to sea. He dreamed of walking up the gangplank with his white canvas sea bag over his shoulder and sailing off to explore foreign lands. His father had other plans for his second son. In Papa's mind, Al would go to the seminary and become Father Al. He'd quickly rise up in the ranks until he would be an archbishop or cardinal with the ear of the Pope. Papa also decided that Al would make a fortune by selling indulgences and by selling his Papal influence to politicians and businessmen. Al was a devout boy but he had no desire for the priesthood, heard no calling from on high. He wanted to sail away on a caravel and come home with a brown-skinned wife and a fortune in spices.
I foresee tumultuous years in Al's future, don't you? It's been quiet here so far today. Maybe nobody's thinking about going diving anytime soon. All I can think about is escaping to someplace warm for a week or month or so. Hasta la vista, babies! At least until tomorrow.--Barbara