Legends from our own lunchtimes

Friday, April 15, 2011


Having nodded off late the previous evening it was only natural that we should wake early, before the ice had melted on the roof.

Apparently it's hard to sleep with the knowledge that the transmission on one's boat now works as it should after a year of pondering and reading and questioning those who didn't know.

Neither of us have any idea why this is so, but a long and entertaining evening with Bill reminding ourselves endlessly about how clever we are, turned into a long and not quite so entertaining night of staring at the ceiling and counting of the quarter-hours on the church bells.

Neither of us could explain it, it wasn't insomnia of the tossing and turning and wishing we could sleep kind, we were quite relaxed about it all, content to lay in the knowledge that we were both equally awake.

Perhaps it was all the owners who had been working on their boats in our proximity had left and we'd run dear old Mr P for an hour to create enough hot water for our first "proper" shower, or perhaps it was the vicarious thrill we got from slipping him into gear from time to time just to feel the strain against the mooring line, or perhaps we knew we had a plan.

Tomorrow we'd pick up Ian and Cher and we'd be away.

That's it, we'd be away!

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