Kayak

God, I'm coming to hate this time of year. I was down on Oneida St. yesterday (along with nearly everyone else on earth) and it was insane. Cars and wild-eyed people on cellphones and cars and SUVs and people and... well, you get the picture. No way was I going to park and go into a store. I snuck into Copps, got my spaghetti pie ingredients and a loaf of French bread, and hurried home to hide away from the Christmas crazy people. My beloved family will be getting fewer gifts but I will be safe from catching the fever that makes you go shopping and buy things no one needs with money you don't have. Here's my gift to you--sanity--and I'm hanging on by a thread.

It isn't at all the way it should be. In a kayak you're just too close to the water. It is a form of boating, I suppose, but to me boating implies a bit more boat and maybe someplace to sit that doesn't do double duty as the bottom of the boat. And the paddle or oar or whatever it's called? It seems too long or bent at the wrong angle, awkward to maneuver and increasingly heavy. And this water, this salty water. It's pretty alright, a nice shade of turquoise, but it leaves a sticky residue on your skin and it tastes awful. Whose idea was this anyway?

Merry 9-days-until-Christmas! I'm going to go knit more mitts.
--Barbara