October 2nd, 2007
My best friend Jayne lives in a community called Annapolis Landing with a waterfront and her family owns a catamaran, Star Breit, which they often take sailing on the Chesapeake. Many of the weekends that I spend at their house in the summer months we go sailing, and often spend the night out especially on the nights where we can all sleep on deck. One summer on the 4th of July weekend Jayne’s sister, who is allergic to shellfish, was visiting some friends; so we went crabbing at the mouth of the South River and ate most of our catch that night. The following morning we were heading back to their house, Jayne’s dad was at the helm and Jayne and I were sitting on the bow watching the sun rise, when all of a sudden we bounced over the top of a wake and both of us got drenched from head to toe. Jayne’s dad had intentionally hit the wave at an angle so that we would get wet, the whole boat was raucous with his laughter. We spent the rest of the trip wearing her parents rain gear with our pants tied to the boom so that they would dry out. When we got home and talked to Jayne’s mom the only reply that we got was that we deserved it for not paying attention. We still haven’t lived it down.
I lived in Germany for ten and a half years, seven and a half of those were spent in a little town called Leimen on the outskirts of Heidelberg. We lived in a little house on Albert Einstein Str., with a little flower garden in front and a hill and a few trees in back. All of the main floor and the staircases in the house were marble so in the summer we would close all of the windows, and special shades called rolladens, so that the house would stay cool. Often in the evenings I would lay on the floor and soak up the chill of the marble. One summer I remember that my mother had asked me to take several glass bottles into the basement and put them in the refrigerator down stairs. I juggled the bottles and when I was nearly to the bottom one of them slipped out of my hand. The metal cap bounced off the edge of the stairs and the bottle landed in a pile of towels at the bottom. The bottle was completely unblemished, the stair, however, was not so fortunate. I had broken a large chunk out of the edge of the stair. I freaked out, but no one but my mother and I ever noticed that the piece was missing.