Dumbwaiter Working

Dumbwaiter working. Finally. We're struggling I think. Hard to tell. The passengers seem to be very excited about everything we're serving. Tough to be a chef with the critical eye of Mordor looking over every little thing. This galley is a dungeon where the mystical arcane arts of smoke and mirrors is practiced.
We'll never tire. We'll never give up. No matter the challenges, the buildup of tooth grinding, and everything stays right where it is. The challenge is going to be the slow deliberate changes that convince the fish it's swimming upstream, and not falling behind. Our destination is vacation, though we're surrounded by vacationer's paradise. We'll begin the repetition of recipes next week. We'll see the same things again until time gets slimier and quicker and all the party can build up along with the agony.
I'd move to Southeast Alaska someday. I'd also give up working on boats someday. As difficult as owning a restaurant may be, I'm not sure there is anything harder than knowing you'll not see home for so long, knowing your loved ones can't see you or share your day. Hard to want to write it all down, keeping all the agony and ecstacy bottled up for posterity. I guess that need to share comes from pride and suffering together, and wishing Carey could pat my head and smile and say, "what a good job you did." I try to recreate some of the magic wherever I can in my not-boat time, but there is something like a burden which drives my cart right now. The burden carries rewards, but I've always been one to shrug off burdens no matter the loss of reward.
Time to keep my feet and sleep. Goodnight.