Legends from our own lunchtimes

Thursday, September 23, 2010

Walking Freda

We've lost a day. We have no idea how it got to be Thursday night when we haven't even had Thursday morning, but apparently it is which is just as well really because we've done enough today to last for two.

With just a teensy bit of luck the forward cabin may start behaving less like a colander if the forecast rain happens for the next week, and the bilge pump float switch is now beautifully and permanently located so we can be confident that we won't sink, and the sliding door has been adjusted to within an inch of its life, and in two lines I've just described three days' work.

Life isn't all work of course, there's still that magical weather and it just didn't seem right to be walking alone, so we borrowed Freda for the morning to make us look more French. I know, I know, a Highland Terrier isn't all that French, but she doesn't seem to understand any particular language and although she'd never let on in public, she seemed to enjoy herself. The harbour looked stunning from the other side of the canal, and we may have been delayed for a not terribly short while while we had coffee with Helen and Chris (on the barge bottom right) as we attempted to pass. If it hadn't been for the need to fill some holes before the rain started we'd still be there, and it would be Friday before we knew it.

If we wake up tomorrow and it's Saturday, we'll be quite distressed.

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