I am not big on junk. I hate clutter. A long time ago I read somewhere that if you haven't used something in a year, you should throw it away. I agree with that for the most part except when it comes to clothes. I have some t-shirts that are-no kidding- over twenty years old. There is one in particular that has been through the washer so many times, you can actually see through it.

Next week, I am driving my car from Cincy to Palm Coast, Florida to deliver a bunch of junk to Maya. (Well, not all of it is junk) This is all the stuff that we were unable to get onto the airplane for some reason or another. Too big, too bulky, too heavy. Whatever.

Over the past year or so, all of this junk has been accumulating in our basement, waiting for its chance to make it onboard Maya. Much of it is stuff we really don't need. For instance, we have cold cups. You know what they are. They are those spongy beer holders used to keep the suds from getting too warm before you drink it. We must have two dozen cold cups here in our house right now and I would wager that there are probably a dozen on Maya already. I cannot tell you the last time I even used one. It has to have been years.

I asked Kim why I am taking cold cups down to Maya. "Well" she said, "the ones down there aren't ours."

"They came with the boat when we bought it, so I think they're ours," I responded.

"They were used by somebody else, and sometimes its just better to start over with new things" she said. "Its like a toilet seat. There are some items you just replace no matter what."

"You just don't get it, do you?"

I guess I don't. But who am I to argue over something as silly as a foam cup holder. (I was going to mention to her that we still have the same toilet seats, but I figured that replacing them would just be another job for me to do so I kept quiet.)

There are still more things that I am taking down that could just have easily been purchased in Florida. For instance, towels. Towels take up a lot of room in your suitcase, that I will give you. It really isn't practical to take them on the airplane when traveling as you can only bring so much luggage. Towels have been piling up, ready for transport to Maya for the better part of a year. I know that if you find a good deal on something its fun to buy it now and think about how much you saved later, but does it make sense to drive 900 miles to deliver towels that you saved 5 dollars a piece on?

I am also delivering garbage bags, a fly swatter, knives, bowls, glasses and tongs among other things. To be fair, I am also taking down a rather large teak table and chair set we bought a month or so ago, so I guess the trip is not for naught.

While I am there, I am going to knock out a few projects that I have been putting off. All in all, I should be gone about a week.

I asked Kim if she was going to miss me while I was gone. "A week is a long time you know...."I said. "What are you going to do with all of your time."

"I am going to buy new toilet seats for the boat" she said.

Sunsets are a wonderful time on the intercoastal waterway. As if on cue, everything around you begins to wind its way down for the evening. The wave action begins its ebb, the wind starts to settle down and the general mood for most boaters takes on a decidedly mellower tone.

To top it off, mother nature provides spectacular displays of light and color with each setting of the sun.

Since we have been out on the water, we have always made it a point to get out and enjoy the waning moments of the day's sunlight. There is nothing quite like a cool refreshment on a warm evening, watching the final moments of the sun's daily journey from the aft deck of our beloved Maya.

We have enjoyed lots of great sunsets since we have been on the boat. While the camera can capture the awesome beauty of the moment, it is hard to describe the sounds and smells that often accompany the falling light of day.

My favorite sound is that of the gentle waves as they slosh up against the side of the boat. Kim likes the sounds fish make when they suddenly jump out of the water, hoping to catch a quick snack out of an unsuspecting insect. Sometimes you can hear faint music from another boater anchored further downstream, as they listen to the sounds of Jimmy Buffet or Bob Marley. The whole thing is a sensory delight.

Unfortunately, this utopian extravaganza brings out the worst of mother nature's annoying imps.

The bugs.

First let me say that I grew up in the woods. We now live in the woods. I am used to bugs. They are mostly an inconvenience up here in Ohio. On the water, they are a menace. Truly.

Here in the midwest, you have a fighting chance at keeping them at bay. For the most part, they are large and and you can see them. They make a noise so you can hear them coming. They are dissuaded from taking a bite out of your flesh with the simplest of repellents and pose no more of a threat than the Cincinnati Bengals in a divisional playoff game.

The bugs on the water are different. They are stealthy and tiny. You can't hear them or see them coming (as a matter of fact, they are referred to as 'no-see-ums'). Your first clue that they have arrived is the sharp pain you feel on an exposed part of your skin as they sink their teeth into your flesh and draw their fill of blood.

There is no escaping their wrath. Trust me, we have tried everything. Every lotion and cream, every spray and insecticide has been employed to deter this invisible menace. We have found nothing that works.

For now though we will have to enjoy our sunsets and then run for the safety of Maya enclosed spaces. Until we find that magic repellent, we will be like the fans at the end of a Bengal's game; looking for something better to do.