I went for a row last evening. (If you’re saying, ‘what’! All I can say is, I know, right!)

I had been encouraged to give it a go, by my new Portsoy Friend. (Who wanted to know, if I had ever met that man on my street who could back up a trailer around two curves and into his driveway, as he is very impressive. Ah, yes, My Loving Spouse, but that is a different story).
I was very excited and nervous. I’d asked her all my most important questions. Are you sure I’m not too old? What do we wear? Where do we meet? My Loving Spouse only asked me one question, will you need a life jacket? I asked My Loving Spouse only one question, “What if I suck?”

The Portsoy Coastal Rowing Club is an amazing group of friendly folks. After I read the history of the club, I knew these were my kind of people. A group of women who came together to build a specific rowboat, even though they didn’t know anything about woodworking or rowing.
The sun doesn’t even start setting until 10:00 pm, so one can set out for a row at 7:30 pm. Just rowing about the North Sea on a Monday night. We saw a pair of seals, a rainbow and we got rained on a little bit. We rowed from Portsoy to Sandend, being told that we’d never have gone that far, if we weren’t doing really well.
Rowing out of and back into the port of Portsoy was magical. This lovely village is even more beautiful from the sea.

So…I didn’t suck. It does take concentration to match the stroke of the first rower. Still, I was quite enjoying myself. I mentioned how much I liked it and that I had been concerned that I was too old. A trio of gals laughed and said, “No one’s too old. We’ve even got someone who’s 60!” (Gasp)
I nodded and laughed, saying, “That’s me.” Which is not exactly true as I’m not that young.

Yes, I’ll be going back. I hope someday to be able to do one of the regattas, which is a fancy name for race.

…and I am blessed.