Several years ago Husband and I purchased an inflatable raft that we lovingly dubbed our Little Yacht.  We’d take it out on deserted lakes in Eastern Oregon and spend hours floating around.  The only company we saw were in drifter boats and we felt perfectly at ease in our $50 special, complete with 1.5 oars.  We pulled Little Yacht out of storage this weekend, blew it up, and set out for a blissful day on the water equipped with a cooler full of sustenance and Charlie’s life jacket.  We paddled around while waving at the “real” boaters cruising by as they chuckled at us and we contemplated the various merits of the très beautiful waterfront homes.  (“I want a deck like that” or “Ugh, can you believe they chose that trim?” or “I’d enjoy stone steps, let’s do that.”) 

We found a nice little buoy, number 70, and used Charlie’s leash to anchor down and partake in a leisurely cocktail hour with beverages and snacks.  Our neighbor yacht at buoy number 69 was blasting a delightful Frank Sinatra mix which created the perfect glamorous ambiance.  The time came when I had to…relieve myself…so I jumped in and feigned a quick swim.  During this time a massive yacht drove directly towards us and the fellow aboard, who happened to wear a very small swim suit, kindly asked if we could move as we had anchored down on their buoy.  Mortification!  So there I was treading water next to an inflatable raft while going to the bathroom and telling this gentleman standing at the bow of a yacht that we’re sorry for taking your buoy, we’ll surely skedaddle.  Charlie decided I was under duress at this moment (perceptive pup) and jumped in the water for a rescue attempt.  Poor Husband had to corral a dog and a wife back into Little Yacht.  Well, there really is no graceful way to board Little Yacht when in the water therefore I had to swim back to the dock along side Little Yacht while Husband paddled and Charlie watched very concerned.   It’s okay Charlie, I’m a pretty equipped swimmer.

We pondered if we’ll ever be one of those fancy boaters parading around the waters.  At this point, it really does seem impossible yet we’ve found solace in this little moral:

Here’s to the somedays that we all dream about.  And also a reminder to cherish the todays that are pretty fun, too.