TRAINING GROUND

COUNTDOWN: One day to house closing
The ascent was not feeling so metaphorical as we carried box after box up the 20 steps (Hillary's Step?) to Camp III, aka our new apartment, in the sweltering heat and humidity. It was a struggle, but I only used one oxygen tank. (Kidding.)

As it turns out this little pad across the street from the ocean is proving to be good training for living aboard. In boatlike fashion, storage is minimal. There's only one closet and no storage space except for kitchen cabinets. The shower is so tiny you can barely turn around. There's no dishwasher, washer or dryer. We're stopping short at turning off the AC, but you get the idea.
Two of our chores at Camp III include 1) sorting and shrinking our book collection and 2) streamlining in the clothing department -- and it does look like a department by boat standards.

To a land dweller's eye, we have almost nothing, but boaters would cackle and mock. Part of our training here will be to release our death grip on more junk. That alarming photo below shows the area we call Keeper's Galley. It's the collection of things we imagine taking on the boat. Can you imagine showing up on the dock with that?

The burgundy bins in the foreground hold tax files and photo albums. They will be going to New Jersey with Chip's parents this week, so it's not quite as bad as it looks, but still, we do have some work to do.

UPDATE:
--With closing tomorrow, we are nearing closure at the house. Our friend Deke is removing the platform bed. Joe is picking up the sewing machine for Jenniffer. We have two bins of paint to ferry to the dumpster and ...
--We loaded all Isabella's accoutrement back onboard: spinnaker pole, staysail boom, sails, anchors, manuals, etc.
--Moved the Windvane and wind generator to Jim and Dana's.