Alternately this post could be titled How My Dad Is Still Trying To Do Me In And Make It Look Like An Accident, but more on that latter in the post.
This past weekend I got away (alone) and went camping with my parents. I find it funny and reassuring that no matter how old I am (or how many kids I have myself), I'm still my parent's kid.
One of the projects was to get the mast of my dad's sailboat up. It's huge, aluminum and sits in a small cup the size of a hard boiled egg holder on the deck. The three stays hold it in place magically.
I've always had an irrational unease when my dad puts the mast up. And after 20 years I was proven correct. After we got the mast up and all that was left to do was tighten up the turnbuckles on the three stays, one of them snapped sending the mast into the lake and missed me by two meters. Scared the crap out of me!
No you we're trying to kill me Dad. Yes I can hear you grumble as you read this.
Luckily no damage to the boat, mast, or my person but the broken turnbuckle put my dad's sailboat out of commission until he gets a new one delivered (hopefully before this coming weekend).
But it all kind of worked out (as things usually do) since it rained Sunday morning and the sailing races were canceled. Unfortunately they were to be held off our dock.
All in all it was still great to get up to the lake, have a beer by the fire, sleep in a tent, get a nap and for a few hours take it easy.