And there she is.
Tucked up in the shed with two or three other stragglers, looking somewhat forlorn between the tourist train and a pile of canoes. Perhaps it was a sign that we’d been minding the grand-puppy for too long that we were almost disappointed that there was no sign of recognition, no wagging tail or even a blink of acknowledgement, but we were sure the happiness was mutual none the less.
Thijs was there too, working on a Sunday just for our sake. We blame him in the nicest possible way for our change of plan, as it was during our conversation a few days ago that he advised he had a small window of time to allow us to fit a proper black water tank and sewer pump out-system.
Not everyone can get excited about the prospect carrying one’s effluent around with them, but having lived for more than a decade and a half on a boat which gave no option than to dispose of said stuff directly into the very same body of water on which we were living, the ecological not to mention social benefits of a controlled disposal system, cannot be denied.
Having settled the details of that particular project, one of us set about her usual tasks of settling in aboard, unpacking bags of winterised gear and generally making things ship shape. The other, something of a contrary force at the best of times, set about spreading tools and mess from one end of the ship to the other, in an attempt to get going on that well worn list marked “things to do - urgent”.
While in theory, a day of work on the boat seemed like a fun and certainly productive way of filling in a Sunday, the prospect of a nice lunch followed by a snooze seemed to be even more fun.
Besides, that would give us the opportunity of discussing just how me might fill in the next week or so in our current homeless state.
Paris looks nice…
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