The Second Time Around

It is not only love that is lovelier the second time around. Almost everything is.

I have just finished installing a tonneau cover on my pickup. Memory may be fading, at this ripe time of my life, but I have replenished my vocabulary, doing everything wrong the first time. Or is not wrong, by solving puzzles for which there were no clues. The installation manual had black and white photos taken in broad delight by a child with a cell-phone. Had I not been intent on saving money, I could have paid twice as much for the cover, and had it installed for $25. I did it myself, and even if my time--in retirement--is discounted, I could easily make a living installing those tonneaus for $1327. each.

It is for good and satisfying reason that, when I built a boat recently, we named it, "Second Mate". It was not our first time, nor our first boat. It only took three years, six eye operations, two house moves, and a big argument about getting another dog.

One learns. One learns to lie about it. One lies about what really happened. And not for the first time. It went pretty well, to tell the truth. For the first time.

Mari and I have been thinking about driving from Minnesota, out to the Pacific Northwest, later this summer, through Canada, our luggage safely under a tonneau cover. Does anyone have any suggestions about what to see for the first time?

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