Today was a day of closure. I drove to Cap's house to exchange a few items. He had expressed interest in seeing the pictures that I took of shrimping last winter, so I printed them out for him. I also printed him a few blog essays. I have told him about the blog since it's commencement, but he hasn't yet read it. I'm a bit nervous to hear his feedback, although I'm not quite sure why.
As I pulled into Cap's driveway I was glad to see that his truck was missing, which indicated that he'd found a sternman and was fishing today. I was relieved that he hadn't been puttering in his yard all week without a deck hand. I walked by the line of rubber boots in his barn. I thoroughly cleaned and stored my oil gear, boots, and fishing clothes the day after fishing. I was eager to be rid of all the smelly gear.
It has only been a week of retirement from lobstering and I already feel somewhat estranged from fishing culture. I passed my buddy Freddy on the road just yesterday and we stopped to chat. "Us old guys miss ya down to the shoah, Girrrl," he told me. I replied that I missed them too. I kinda miss waving to the guys from my bait tray. I miss the routine of it all. I even miss the comradery that accompanies back-breaking work. But I don't miss the work one bit.
My days have been leisurely. I have had time to dig in to all of the creative projects that I didn't have time or energy for when I was fishing. I have spent this week sewing, writing, cooking, running, watching movies, and visiting family and friends. I even scheduled that massage that I promised myself when I got done with lobstering. It has been a relaxing and satisfying week of vacation. It feels good to catch up with myself.
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