Normally we give ourselves a week to pack and clean and regroup. This allows us to take into account the vagaries of the weather as well as those of our own.
By the time we had run a few small errands this morning involving hardware stores and boatyards, and had our last farewell hugs, we were down to less than two days, with the half day of our actual departure in reserve.
By that time the rain had set in, accompanied by that kind of emptiness that fills a small boat when a month or more of what felt decidedly like partying despite the obvious distraction sitting foot up in the corner, suddenly comes to an end.
Nothing we did or said could motivate us to get started, even the one with the motivation stick was reluctant to reach for it let alone wave it in the other’s direction while he sat staring into space, deep in his wonderings and procrastination.
A man (and woman) has to eat, so a slightly less than quick walk downtown to drink in the last of the town for the year, and to pick up some bread and maybe a nice piece of cake seemed in order.
The cake, a whopping slice of Mokka Cream, was just what the doctor ordered. As we lingered much longer than we normally would over our late morning coffee, we wondered together whether the doctor order rest as well.
There’s no point in washing anything in this rain.
Perhaps one of us can get it all sorted in a day?
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