It's a repeat performance. I don't want to go home tomorrow. The sun is warm, the evening long and light. Now nine at night and it is still broad day.
Truly, the northern isles of the UK and the RoI are magical in midsummer. Birds sing. MasterB sleeps. The Shouty Man is quiet and fishing. There are dogs. The lovely Nelson, a black Lab, has got me pinned as a soft touch, thrower of balls, and he brings me fluorescent tennis balls when I go ashore.
Das Boot is more than half clean. The newspaper is entirely unread. I bought eggs from a new source this morning and met a a young Rotweiler who really really wanted to say hello.
I do feel a bit guilty about not seeing Aunt. I shall be back in a couple of weeks and shall devote a day to her.
What I thought was a fairly casual conversation last week has been taken seriously, and apparently there is someone ready and waiting to replace the linings on my boat. This is very good news.
I am posting using Blogsy. It seems very efficient at putting up posts. Then I can't get to emails or most of the time, replay to comments. Bizarre.
When I think I might have given up and stayed home this weekend, I am so aware of how precious my time is here. For all I know, my neighbours have been up late, talking and drinking. Meanwhile I have had the peace of a remote patch of countryside.
I thought people might have been annoyed by the sound of the power washer. But the only conversations I had were about where I had bought it and how it worked alongside the pump. There is silt on the river, and I need to check out how the filters work on both pump and washer. Hopefully, my new cleaning system will not be a one hit wonder.
Envy me my evening. It really could not get much better than this.
Sounds blissful – although I went round to water our allotment plot at nine, and lingered there chatting to Lara. That was good too, even in the midst of this big city.
And now all change with light rain and cloud this morning. The moorchicks have been feeding by the boat, apparently unhased by my presence. They are so light they just walk on top of the weed. Someone told me yesterday there had been three, so probably a pike got the third one.
It really does sound blissful, Isobel. Peace and quiet and a respite from the rush and bustle of life in the city.
I just had a little walk around. It is very quiet this morning, though now the dogs are up, so MasterB will have to be content with last night’s shore leave in the dusk.
The swans seem to have just the one cygnet. A man and his dog are fishing on the river at the other end of the marina. The starboard gun whale of das Boot looks wonderfully clean.
It does sound blissful, enjoy every minute!
At home on a lovely sunny evening after visiting my sister whom you know in London and going to a wonderful conference.
But envious of das Boot. I’ve alwasy loved baats. And it sounds utterly idyllic.
Maybe one of these would suit you http://www.jonesboatyard.co.uk/boat-sales/caracruiser-boat-for-sale-6394.html
baats – boats!
It sounds good to me. I could be happy there… minus the Shouty Man.
His new fishing habit means he sits in silence. Wonderful! Even more wonderful if he doesn’t catch anything. 🙂
I could use a night like that! Glad you savored the peace.
Being entirely ignorant of Colorado, I don’t know if you have the opportunity to chill on a boat away from the throng.
It is good.
I never hear cuckoos in London. On das Boot I hear them all the time in summer. I love London and have lived here longer than anywhere else, but I grew up in the country and it is in my DNA.
We’re pretty landlocked here, although there are some good lakes and reservoirs. We recently retrieved our canoe from the friend who had been storing it since my Missouri River trip some years ago. I am itching to get that out on the water for a day soon….