Last spring Goblin sat on a mooring ball waiting for her masts to be reinstalled while I cursed, packed, and purged to burn off my impatience.

This spring, first I waited on the engine and now I’m waiting on the weather. No wind at all for days followed by too much wind for a first shakedown sail. There’s noting to purge and pack this year and it’s harder to get away with cursing when the kids are with me all day and so I walk.

Most mornings I head out into the streets of Charlestown, up and down the hills near the monument, trying to burn off a little of my driving desire to move. I know it both helps and doesn’t. Walking isn’t the same as sailing, but this neighborhood does provide me with hidden treasures.

Still a small town girl at heart, I can’t wrap my head around how many other people are out early in the morning. So many dog walkers, runners, tired moms with strollers. I smile and say hello to the moms especially, some are clearly out for the exercise and others have a familiar looks that I know well, one that says they’re still moving only because out in the air, with the motion of the stroller, their baby is finally asleep and they are determined to make the nap last as long as possible. I know that early morning walk. It’s a different kind of waiting and impatience but with much the same level of cursing.

I push myself up and down the hills to distract myself. Some days I focus on doors, other days on flowers. I think I’ve walked each side of every street, found all the dead ends and alley ways, admired the polished steps of one home next to the sprawling sidewalk chalk toddler art of their neighbor.

I’ll keep walking until one day I sail.