ice pellets

This winter has been tough. Relentless cold, snow, and ice. But I'm not going to gripe about the winter weather. There is enough of that going around and if you get me started, well, I might not stop. At this point I'm not surprised that we have ice pellets in our forecast. Again.

Regardless of the conditions outside, it's hard not to be a self-professed weather geek when you live on a boat. We are, literally, so close to the elements. I hear the first rain drops fall, I know the exact moment the sun peeks out from behind the clouds, and I am pretty spot-on when dressing myself and the girls to go outdoors.

It is also fun to watch Freja learn about the weather. We watch the sunrise every morning (which is nice, but I'd be satisfied with watching it rise just once a week) and Freja is quick to point out the moon in the evening. It always surprises her when she sees it in the daylight.

There are some negatives about being so in tune with the weather: Freja immediately wakes up when it starts raining. Sleeping in the vee-berth is akin to sleeping in a car, or a tin can: you can hear every little noise on the outside surface. We turn up her noisemaker pretty loud, but she still has trouble sleeping through rain. We feel every little breeze and every big gust of wind. Storms are obvious. When the wind is blowing we really get pushed around in our slip. Rock and roll we call it. Rock and roll.

In general, I love feeling like I'm in touch with nature even though I'm living in the middle of the big city. Sometimes that nature is simply a dead catfish floating belly-up past the boat, or a particularly rough night when the boat rocks in its slip and we rock back and forth in our bunks. But, at other times, that nature is watching the sunrise every morning and feeling warm sun on our faces in the middle of winter.