It’s easy to be happy all tucked up snug in one’s home port, surrounded by old mates in the last throes of wintering their boats, heater aboard just managing to keep the thermometer headed in the right direction. Just.
It’s even easier when they are outside in it, scrubbing the last of summer off their boats, while we remain within, not yet overcome by the urgent need to pack things away. That will happen soon enough.
We even thought about hiring the little car to find somewhere warm for lunch with Joan and Peter, but by the time we’d finished that thought, someone else no doubt thinking similarly had taken the car, so we stayed indoors tucked up with a book, for once not particularly wishing we’d stayed out there for even one more night.