We'll Name It "Das Luftschloss"

My husband and I give our sailboats German names. The first was Zeltlagermanie ("Camp mania"), and our second (and current) is Freizeit ("free time"). And yes, that is Freizeit in the blog header.

We went to the Strictly Sail show just over a week ago and found our third boat: a Beneteau 37. I fell in love with a vanity table that would make a perfect laptop desk for my writing, and Roland fell in love with the location of the raw-water impeller. (The raw-water impeller pumps water through the engine to keep it cool. It needs to be replaced once a year, and Freizeit's impeller is almost impossible to get to, especially if it should fail while we're out on the water.) It's amazing how much the little things contribute to falling in love.

I also have a name for our new Beneteau 37: Das Luftschloss ("air castle"). That's because, at almost $200,000, it is just a pipe dream. Still, there's nothing wrong with building castles in the air if you are realistic about your chances of lowering them onto solid ground. Maybe when my book hits the New York Times' bestseller list . . .

It takes an active imagination to write Romeo and Juliet, to create a country like Narnia, to invent the flying machine, and to find a cure for polio. So dreams can be good things to have. (Okay, so maybe a new sailboat isn't quite as noble a quest, but bear with me here.)

Dreams can be counterproductive if they get in the way of more important matters, such as faith, family, and friends and neighbors (in the broadest sense). I would rather lose the dream than have to name the boat Das Idol. (I'll let you figure that one out.)

Until then, I'll continue building castles in the air.