Palo Alto Thanksgiving

Thank you to the wonderful Feinstein family for their hospitality.

These pictures are from our double date to the beach. I cannot recall the name of the beach, perhaps Lea or Carl can clarify, but as you can see it was lovely!

Career Change for Kath

My current occupation appears to be house painter. I have logged over 100 hours in the last two months on some rung or other of a ladder very much like this one, except more rickety. I have paint in my hair, under my fingernails, and even on my stomach. Eventually I will run out of walls and woodwork to paint, and then I can be a normal person again. I shudder to think of the toxic load of volatile organic compounds absorbed by my brain this fall! But on the plus side the house will look nice when the young ladies from New Hampshire and Illinois venture home for Christmas! Hope everyone is well! Love, Kath

Recent Sweeps

So... working at I.D. has been rather consuming. But, i do get to share some goodness and forward you all to a sweepstakes we are hosting. One item a week for several months will be given away. Check it out, there is some good stuff on there... and I'm not self promoting (I promise, David) but excited to see my first web design launch!

PS: here is yours truly displaying an item that will be given away.

http://www.idonline.com/winshop/

Happy Birthday Daniel!!

A few friends and I managed to pull off a surprise pool and bowling birthday party for Daniel. Complete with mustaches!
I highly recommend them for your next birthday party :)

Hola from Barthelona

Some more pictures....

A beautiful theater that we went to see a guitarist perform (whose name i forget at the moment). Incredible seats (thank you David) and incredible music.

Group shot: The roomates from Zurich

Marathon Photos

In the Beginning (or maybe 1/2 way through) things were good.

Even at mile 20 I could still manage a smile. The guy in green next to me I met on the course. His name is Andrew and he ran about 20 miles with me which was huge!! Finally he had to drop back and I continued on alone.

Which might explain this slightly dazed look...

Boston Qualifier

This Certifies That

Elizabeth Lagerquist

Has Successfully Completed
The Portland Marathon on October 7th, 2007

in
3:39:19

Overall Place: 878 / 7724

Division Place: 48 / 653

Gender Place: 172 / 4195

*************************************************************************************

This was definitely the hardest thing I have ever done (and it was my 3rd marathon). My inner monologue that usually keeps me going during races was even faltering and I had to call for backup. Luckily for me my gallant husband borrowed our friend Margaret's belt and came to my aid running with me for a mile and a half until he had to leave the course at mile 26. With that boost of support I was able to put all my energy into getting across the finish line .2 miles later within the finishing time needed to qualify for the Boston Marathon.
Thank you all for your support and good wishes... Anyone fancy a springtime trip to Boston?

Some things I find confusing.

The internet. What is it? Why is it in English when I'm in America but in Spanish when I'm in Spain? Is that a different internet? How does the computer know where I am? I realize there are scientific answers to all of these questions, but the reason I am not a scientist is that those answers never satisfy me. I'd prefer nonsense, frankly, though one can always be disguised as the other.

Recent scenes from Barcelona:

1) I am walking up an alley in the Gothic Quarter, and I hear a uncannily familiar chirping and clucking. What is it? The woman walking towards me? A strange Catalan ritual of anti-Centralist dissent? No, of course not. Those are both idiotic suppositions. Of course it is a parrot. An African Grey, perched on a bicycle handlebar, hooting and rolling his beady eyes for all he is worth. This is one of the few situations in which I feel absolutely comfortable. I begin hooting and clucking back at him. A small crowd gathers. They are watching me a little warily. It goes on, longer perhaps than sanity would ordinarily recommend. Eventually, a bedraggled man comes out of the store nearby, and throws a leg over the bicycle. I ask him (in spanish, mind you--never escape taking credit when it's undeserved), "Is that your parrot?" "Yes," he says. "What's his name?" "His name is Romi to his friends. It's Romueldo to everybody, but Romi with his boy and girl friends." He places a black bowler hat on his head, extracts a shiny harmonica from his pocket, and pedals off, buzzing and cranking on that harmonica as the bird hoots and nibbles the brim of his hat. A harmonica. Why didn't I think of that?

2) From today. This is just a glimpse of something, not a whole scene, but it's one of those moments that has a whole novel buried in it.

An elderly man with a bent back, papery white hair, and an ill-fitting blue suit that hangs almost to his knees, stands in the middle of the bustling sidewalk. Sleek young Spaniards who resemble Mercedes sedans more than actual humans stream around him. He is peering carefully but blankly at a poster he has torn from the wall. It reads, in enormous crimson cursive script: "ALZHEIMERS! in concert."

Here's a picture I took the other day.

It began as the perfect day for a sailboat race in Small Point Harbor... blue skies (above the dark clouds), a fresh (35 knot) breeze, and (nervous grimaces masquerading as) smiles all around. With Small Point newcomer Maayan aboard, the Tara's Captain, Bob, and First Mate, David, were eager to create a lasting impression, and so far all signs were pointing to an exciting day - perhaps even a victory!


But the tension soon mounted - the commodore set the course and boats began pacing back and forth along the starting line, jockeying for position. As the final blast of the air horn pierced the brisk, salty air, the race began, and within minutes, the mighty Tara had maneuvered to the lead of the pack (at least the pack in the cropped image below)!


The initial tension soon eased, and as the crew rounded the first mark, the conversation turned to Maayan's previous nautical experience. When it was revealed that her only prior journey by sailboat had resulted in a capsizing, Captain Bob was quick to reassure her that with himself at the helm, the Tara's keel had seen nary a ray of sunlight in four decades. Had the wind been calmer, or the seas less violent, Captain Bob might have sensed the irony descending upon the Tara at that moment and taken evasive action... but it was not meant to be - the jib soon began to backwind, the boat veered leeward, and not a moment later, Captain Bob, First Mate David, Maayan, and the Tara itself were, quite literally, three sheets to the wind. The "gasp heard 'round the world" ensued, as the entire Small Point fleet witnessed the once invincible Tara topple, pitching the entire crew into the frigid, lobster-infested waters of the North Atlantic.


As the shock subsided, rescue boats began rushing to the scene to offer assistance. Meanwhile, other sailors hustled back to the safety of port, lest they suffer a similar fate. Of course, the paparazzi was also quick to arrive at the Tara's side. An undisclosed photographer was observed circling the ailing Tara in a speedboat, capturing harrowing footage of the rescue of First Mate David and now twice-drenched Maayan.


But alas, Captain Bob would not leave his ship. Bailer clenched in his teeth, he righted the boat and lashed a towline to the bow. With the Tara finally upright and in tow, Captain Bob began to bail. Furiously, he slung bailers upon bailers of water over the side, but they would only be replaced when the next towering wave crashed into the open hull. It soon became apparent that Captain Bob's efforts were failing, and all who watched could not help but wonder if the dark, tumultuous waters would be his final resting place.


And indeed it might have been, had not the photographer documenting Captain Bob's untimely demise had a change of heart. Perhaps it was just a random act of humanity - a sudden realization that saving a life could have more merit than filming a death - or perhaps it was more - perhaps the photographer sensed that a little piece of Captain Bob lived deep within him, that they shared some kind of immutable bond at the molecular level. Whatever was behind it, the photographer leapt into action - he floored the engine and sprayed Captain Bob in the face with propeller wake. While not immediately beneficial to the situation, this allowed the photographer to reach the rescue boat and suggest a change of course - straight to the sandy shores of Feinstein Beach (a.k.a. Spring Beach on USGS maps). It was here, finally, that the bedraggled Tara was bailed dry.


Back in the calm waters behind Goose Rock, the crew was reunited at last. Captain Bob and First Mate David seemed to have staged at least a partial recovery, but their concern immediately turned to young Maayan. Had she been scarred for life? Had she construed this event, the second of two nautical adventures to end in disaster, as an indisputable threat from the almighty Lord Neptune never to venture into his realm again? This final picture tells it all.

Cundy's Harbor 2007

Every so often we had a day without a boating disaster, like this sunny afternoon excursion to Cundy's Harbor, which boasts a new float and a supersteep new high-tech ramp but the same old greasy spoon dishes that we always love anyhow.

Clockwise from left to right are Devon Mundal, Daniel, Kath, Elizabeth, Eliza, and Sarah.

Dear Crew (Continued)

Ahoy Mates ...

(picking up where we left off in the account of the Battle of the Small Point Armada from the loser's perspective) yes, Wiley old Cap'n Bob repositioned the repositioned Tara's rudder post and refastened its hose clamps so that Team Feinstein + 1 was indeed able to enter into the second of the fleet's two races and make it successfully around the racecourse without taking on any more water. Of course, for those in the know, the distinction of taking on the most water was later to be achieved when Cap'n Bob, himself, took the tiller. Ah, but I'm getting ahead of meself...

With Tara dry and safely back on her mooring, and Adam, Jess, and Noah subsequently headed south by southwest and back to the world of work, Cap'n Bob recruited a new crew to man the mighty GG in an expedition to the uncharted waters of Booth Bay Harbor. To Sarah, Devon, Daniel, Eliza, and Elizabeth, it was billed simply as a 3 hour cruise (sung to the refrain from "Gilligan's Island"). Bright and early, we headed north and west to the Seahorse lobster pound to take on ample fuel for what we all envisioned would be the summer's grandest voyage. Within half an hour, we were snugly moored to the gas dock, slaking GG's thirst for adventure with 100 gallons of high octane. Everything was going smoothly until ... oops, a mere pint or two of the heady brew welled up out of the boat's fuel inlet and spilled onto the ocean's surface to instantly imperil a mere $8,000.00 supply of live lobsters floating nearby in storage crates tied to the dock. Awkwaaarrdd! Under the grim eye of the pound's owner, the hearty GG crew sprang into action and made a valiant effort to redirect the oil slick away from the lobsters. Aided by the tide and the wind, the crew was successful, and chastened but relieved, they bade Seahorse farewell. Booth Bay here we come!

In a gentle breeze, under a clear blue sky across a sparkling sea, the mighty GG headed down east past Wood Island, Bald Head, Cape Small, Seawall Beach, and Seguin Island. Three miles beyond Seguin, with Booth Bay beckoning on the horizon, Able Seaman Elizabeth Vaughan sang out, "I smell something!" This was seconded by Able Seaman Eliza Lagerquist, "I do, too!" So Cap'n Bob throttled back and raised the engine housing to reveal Smokefest of the Sea, aka the GG's 450 King Cobra inboard outboard engine, gasping and snapping and choking in a maelstrom of blue black fumes. Able Seaman Bassuk leapt to the cabin for a fire extinguisher (which expired 8 years previously). Able Seaman D.R. Vaughan, grandson of the blamingest blamer, declared, "I didn't do it, Dad!" (This remark may be apocryphal.) Undaunted, Cap'n Bob calmly plucked his trusty cellphone from his pocket, called Bamforth Marine for guidance, and within minutes confirmed that they were not, in fact, on a 3 hour cruise. Instead, over the next 6 hours, the Zodiac rubber boat was launched to search for help, the GG was anchored in 150 feet of water in which it snagged a string of lobster pots so that the anchor was rendered almost unretrievable, the GG was towed to Seguin by friendly rescue boat number one (Ned Motley's Beetle Bomb), and then the GG was towed from Seguin to Small Point Harbor by rescue boat number two (Billy Hoffman's ) during which the GG's rotting docklines were strung together as tow ropes. They broke and were retied approximately 12 times in route. Late that afternoon, or was it early evening, the GG was brought to her mooring, wounded, perhaps fatally, but all her crew were accounted for, no one was injured, and another boating diaster recovery was etched into our collective psyches. "That's it for the summer," thought Cap'n Bob. Little did he know what yet was to come. See you soon in our next installment, "Pride goeth before a swim!"

some old drawings

I'm attaching a link to a blog i am going to be working on. On it right now are some old drawings of mine that i thought might be of some interest.

http://maayanpearl.blogspot.com/

Captain Bob and his crew of Boating Bitches!

Devon and I are the proud parents of two kittens! Please meet Poppy (left) and Lucy.
FRANKENKITTY!!!
One of my favorite pictures from this summer! Check out that sexy full body suit!

Dear Crew

Our aging fleet took it in the chops this summer. Who can forget Adam's text message to wise old Uncle Bob as he prepared to take the Conways down the New Meadows to moor at SP? "The boat is leaking!" GG never made it off the trailer over the 4th of July holiday, alas. Then came the attempt to launch the Tara. Cap'n Bob, Elizabeth, and Noah almost lost her in the backyard in the effort to get her on the trailer! After dodging that bullet, the dynamic quadruplet (Noah, Adam, Jess, and CB) succeeded in maneuvering 3 vessels into position at Hermit Island's Yankee dock, only to have Tara forced onto the dock and the Lowe boat seriously disabled. The team finally towed Tara down to the SPOC dock with the Zodiac, while Bosun Adam and Jess accompanied them in the Lowe boat using the only gear that worked, reverse. At the SPOC dock, after serious failed efforts to drop Tara's mast into the sea, team Feinstein + 1 succeeded in installing Tara's mast and got her to the mooring, only one broken turnbuckle shy of perfect.
Thank goodness! Then, the next day, under a blue sky and steady breeze, team Feinstein (Adam and Noah) + 1 (the lovely Jess Conway) headed out to the races, only to discover that boat number 2 was seriously leaking. Yes, folks, the mighty Tara had sprung a debilitating leak around the rudder post! The lads were consequently forced out of the first race and only narrowly made it into race #2 because wiley old Cap'n Bob .... (to be continued ...)

Soy un viajero.

How did we do in the Commodore's race?

I've been hyping myself up to try and get a job at sea once in Barcelona. Thinking it might be more interesting (and less performative) than teaching.

I'm taking off tonight, weather permitting, at 6:55 pm. I'll be in Rome by 10 am, and Barcelona by 2 in the afternoon of September 12. My lack of Spanish speaking ability was truly driven home when, last night, I was trying to say, "I don't speak Spanish, but I am studying it," and realized that I was nowhere close. The good people of Spain will have to do without this information, it seems. However, I have prepared an answer to the question, "What do you do?" Soy un viajero, amigo, soy un viajero.

Goodbye to Maine for 2007

Dear Family -- Last week I closed up the house in Maine with bittersweet feelings and a longing to keep the family connections going throughout the year, especially with members unable to visit or able to come for only a short time. I would love it if people posted stories, pictures, ideas, suggestions. David and Maayan -- I think you may have a story or two to tell! Love to all, and do keep in touch! Kath