We divided our 800 square foot apartment into several nooks. Right now I am writing this note to you from a space we call the bow, which is also the home to my desk, piano, camera gear, laptop, printer, storage bins for both Dee and I and her wardrobe. We refer to our apartment as the Love Boat because of the general shape of the two-story building which is long, tall and narrow. We live on the second floor and are fortunate to have eleven generous portholes to take in the scenery. The yacht was built in 1920 and is docked in the neighborhood of Woodberry which used to be an old mill town that produced cotton duck for clipper ships.
We are two people, separate but equal. Together we make a whole. I guess what I'm saying is—we are both pretty skinny. A slender bateau is the perfect vessel for us. This is the third apartment we've shared and by far the most nautical. The interior of the space was renovated just before we came aboard. Located a few paces behind the bow is the cutest little berth you've ever seen. It measures 9 ½ x 9 ½ and contains a queen bed, a closet for my clothes, a moon viewing window and a pair of bluetooth speakers for cuddle jams.
We are blessed with not one but two dramatic hallways that are reminiscent of a classic San Francisco style railroad apartment. We use these corridors to display art and hang certain articles of clothing for fashion inspirationals. The longest hallway connects the bow and berth to the main deck which is home to our turntable, 10 crates of vintage vinyl, a 40" TV, two wicker bookshelves, Dee's studio and a dual yoga mat dance floor for the boogie downs. The second portal leads from the main deck to the stern which contains a soaking tub, a shower, an efficient flusher, a sink, a shelved linen closet and a diminutive view of Druid Park.
We cook all our meals in an ergonomically designed galley which is astern of the main deck and is equipped with a four burner gas range, a microwave, a double-door fridge, a deep stainless sink with a disposal, 33 square feet of countertops, 22 cabinets with self closing hinges and a full-size washer and dryer. We have never eaten at a restaurant since living in Baltimore. We prepare our dinners together and enjoy them in front of the TV while sitting on meditation cushions. Dee typically grazes and watches and stitches all at the same time. The last meal we made was pesto with sauteed broccoli and garlic. I put my pesto on De Cecco spaghetti no. 12 and Dee put hers on the veggies. We drank liberal pours of Barefoot cabernet from a box.
We recently decided that we would be friends forever and if I had to tell you one of my favorite things about living in such seafaring luxury it would have to be that while I am concluding this visualization to you about love and togetherness I can hear Dee's youthful laughter on the main deck as she simultaneously works on her latest character illustration while watching a documentary on the iPad described in the liner notes as, "In a world as vast as ours, anything that can happen likely will happen. The only thing that can limit these possibilities is your own imagination."
Oui, to laugh is to love.
⌘
