July 27, 2009
Floating
One of my favorite pleasures, on the days the alarm clock makes no demands, is to awaken slowly, floating gradually to the surface after I’ve had enough sleep. This morning I had the bonus delight of floating to a surface that was floating, as the bed moved very gently in our calm seas.
We’ve come through our squall, and have broken through into sunshine, clear skies, and relative warmth. The captain initially headed the ship southwest into the Atlantic to a position somewhat south of Paris before picking up a great circle toward New York, working us around the storm. We’re also leaving northern climes, which helps. Beautiful bright clear blue skies and dark blue seas; Barbara sighted some unidentified sea life this morning, and I’m hoping for a little star gazing this evening.
So today, they’ve reopened the viewing decks closed since the channel because of the winds, and I spent much of the afternoon trooping about on my shipboard routine of inspections so vital to the safe operation of the vessel. We had another of our Maxtone-Graham lectures this morning, complete with kilt, and I purchased the paperbacsk version of his book on this ship this afternoon (and another signing).
We had our nicest evening to date, with dinner, a condensed version of “The Importance of Being Earnest” by graduates of the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts, and ended the evening in the ballroom listening to the big band. We even danced two of the slow dances. Since Barbara forgot to wear her steel-toed pumps we left it at that, fleeing the floor when they called for cha-chas or tangos.
