Fall, and back to Sailboat Dreams

I woke to frost this morning. The whole yard was rimed with sparkling silver, and the aloe plants that I left on the porch were stiff and waiting to turn to sludge with the arc of the sun onto the porch. As happens every Autumn after the leaves have turned and fallen, the lives of my near and dears fray at the seams. Cold seems to gnaw at long term relationships and eat the polish right off of new ones. The extra expense of heating a home causes budgetary panic, and the thought of being snowed in makes some friends downright paranoid at the sight of every cloud. Me? I'm fine. New roof on the house, new kittens to keep me laughing, fresh cord of wood for the stove, life is good. But I can't help but dream of warmer climes and of homes that move and of radios that provide unreliable communication with the outside world. Am I talking about running away? Who me? Yes. I can be honest. Nobody reads this. My idea of heaven at the moment is climbing aboard a little single-hander and sailing down to Key West with the kitties. I long to stroll alone through the Hemingway house and to the Chicken Store and have a coffee and Nutella beignet at that little French cafe and then be rocked into sweaty sleep on the hook in Key West Bight. No hurrying from the house to the car or the woodpile or anywhere else to escape stinging nose and ears and frosty eyeballs. No dreading the ringing phone or the stomp of livid daughter or the shriek of housebound hound dog. No feeling guilty because I am not "producing." No feeling like a weenie because I love this place in spring and summer and dread the coming of fall. Am I fine? No, I guess not. If, as advertised, we get plenty of good snow this winter (and the cell service becomes incredibly spotty and said teen gets snowed in at her boyfriend's), I will probably stay amused enough to make it through. If not, there may be tooth-marks at the corners of coming pages. This morning, though, I am feeding the dream with this:
http://www.yachtworld.com/core/listing/photoGallery.jsp?slim=quick&currency=USD&units=Feet&seo=0&checked_boats=2474674&boat_id=2474674&back=/core/boats/1988/Island-Packet-31-2474674/Oriental/NC/United-States&boat_id=2474674
The Island Packet 31, what a cutie! I could just drive over to Oriental right now and take her home. Except that home is Asheville. And that 50ish grand is more than I have at my fingertips at the moment. But... that is what dreams are for. Dream on.