In the pink.

When the day dawned it seemed a bit silly to leave the warmth of the quilts just to get up and scrub the boat and tidy up, besides we had been invited to breakfast at nine, and there was little point in raising a sweat before then.

Breakfast naturally turned into a late-ish morning tea, and since we had a car and Grahame and Aileen didn’t, we decided they should accompany us on a brief provisioning soujourn.   “Brief” is probably not a word that comes readily to mind in relation to shopping trips, particularly when multiple not-males persons are in the throng, and I must admit that perhaps arriving in town at one minute to lunchtime was strategically ill advised, given that it would be two hours until the hardware shop reopened and until then some vital supplies would be unattainable.

We did our best to fill in time, by sitting down between supermarkets, for a quick bite to eat, sympathising all the while with the local service people and the great distraction that lunch time must be for them.

By the time we arrived back in Lagarde, looked at the mess for a bit and pondered whether to start work, we thought better of it and retired to Grahame and Aileen’s boat where at least we had a place to sit, to watch the sun go down.