It’s surprising just how much we can get done when we apply ourselves. By “we” of course I am not referring to the other of us, who seems to get things done every day come hell or high water, but not to put too fine a point on it we're almost finished. The boat is almost clean enough to go cruising or to pack it up ready for winter, whichever comes first.
Bill’s been giving Mr Perkins a bit of a tickle too, and between us we may well have found the cause of that niggling little drippy bit that’s plagued the dear old thing (Mr P not Bill), for a year or two, which could well mean that we are having the most trouble-free beginning to a season that we’ve ever had. Of course not actually moving anywhere helps in that regard.
We can’t be sure, though we think it may have been while one of us was hanging quite precariously upside down holding the boat to the dock while scrubbing around the waterline with the other, head and body mere inches from a watery mishap, that he was struck with a sudden flash of brilliance. Flashes of brilliance of this sort after all are quite easy to have while inverted with one's head engorged with one’s entire body's supply of blood and while the sun is shining on a perfect day and the world is just tickety-boo.
Why not, he thought, drive to Denmark ?