Slathering bottom paint on a boat‘s bottom is not something you’d typically say brought joy. Resigned commitment that it had to get done yes, but joy? No. So why do I associate it with pleasure?
The day after my layoff from a stressful job for the gov, I reported for work at a friend’s boatyard. It was early June, and there were boats needing lots of love and attention to get them ready for the sailing season. My assignment was a pretty little ketch.
Traditional ketches. are among my great loves. I learned to sail on the 34-foot wooden ketch Pyche. I scrapped her hull and varnished her rails many times. To an extent, it was a homecoming.
As the day progressed, I realized that I did not have the normal idiocy to take care of. No burden of progress notes on projects. Calls to make. And no visits to the contacting officer to hear him aggravate the idiot things staff were doing with poorly written Form—DD1. There I was, listening to the bees and birds, the breeze blowing, and beautifying a lovely boat.
In a few weeks, I’ll redo the resume and look for something professional to do with my time. For now, I’m enjoying a reward.
Afterwards:
I had lots of time to prepare for a career shift. I chose to return to things maritime. it was in my history and family background. You could say it was in my blood. I had started working boat shows about two years previously. Now I was a recognizable individual with my displays of carvings. a part-time job at UPS provided benefits ( healthcare, dental, and such) for the family. I did not regret leaving the stress of the government job behind.
If you’ve read this blog for a while, you know that I still carve, am fascinated by things maritime, and have no wish to return to either government service or anthropology.
Discover more from Louis N. Carreras, Woodcarver
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Your joy is infectious.
I like to think so!
🙂