In our frigid climes we have a variety of things we call 'seasons'. During one of these seasons, which we call 'winter', the temperature drops so low that the water in which we keep our boats turns to a hard substance called 'ice' (similar to what you might serve in your sangria - only bigger).
When the water gets hard we have to take our boats out of the lake or the ice will crush our hulls - like an Italian cruise ship on the rocks.
All through the winter we dream about our boats. We sail vicariously with those of you unfamiliar with the concept of 'seasons'. We spend money on presents for our boat. We post inane threads on sailing fora. We wait for the day when we can remove the shrink-wrap, or tarpaulin, clear out the nesting birds and animals, and ease our beautiful craft back into the bossom of the water - which is once again in its liquid phase. We pray that our engines start and our through-hulls don't leak - especially the new transducer I put in for my new depth sounder.
Each year we go through the ritual of waxing, buffing, antifouling and rerigging.
Yesterday I launched.
I'm in the water!