We're packing now. We've been packing for days. We are down to the last few hours of collecting seemingly necessary things to cram into the car, transport to Bremerton Yacht Club, stop somewhere to buy salads for onboard supper, reach the club, transfer everything to a few dock carts in the hot afternoon sun, notice how steep the ramp is down to the water level, carefully control heavy carts by leaning back hard on our heels (because who plans well enough to leave when a high tide levels the darned thing); push on to A Dock, slip #214 and transfer all necessary things up the steep transom stairway. About now, we wonder, did we remembered our passports or the iPad chargers? We shove, lug, toss things across the bird-messed cockpit down two steps into the salon (way too many books, and why the recorder--I never play it) from whence we intend to  properly stow things (ha, ha, ha). We find the dog's water bowl, filll it, one of us steps in it, swear only a little bit as we clean up the galley floor, complain about the heat, find fans and set them up, push empty carts back up the ramp for others to use, return to stowing stuff, and give thanks for another year of bobbing about aboard PineAweigh. Tomorrow is soon enough to "Go."