Perfect Tuesday

Just on four o’clock and as I don’t drink tea I decided to open one of my cans of weak lager. MasterB is stretched out on the bed, sleeping his way through the heat of the afternoon. I’d post pictures of him and the surrounding farmland, but for some reason my camera and my tablet are not talking. He’s a seasoned boat cat these days; he’s been coming here for five years now, the first time the day after he was neutered, which was also the day of the Royal Wedding. He’s had three lots of shore leave, though this morning’s was very short. Although eager to check out the world beyond the gunwale, he swiftly had second thoughts and opted to come aboard again after less than five minutes.

When I woke up I discovered he had been playing with the feathered toy in the night. I had hidden it away as I don’t want him to choke on it. He is getting too clever at winkling it out if the hiding places.

The morning was spent washing the boat. It is not yet finished, but I have done a good job on the starboard side and the roof. Unfortunately these are the areas where I always do a good job; the port side has green algae of at least two seasons on it. My excuse last year was that I was just getting down to work when with the hose and water pump when I realised the window seals were inadequate and water was pouring into the interior. My excuse today, when I eschewed the electrics and instead used mop, new broom which distressingly shed its bristles with abandon, and old toothbrush, is that older Nephew was coming for lunch and I needed to be showered and have said lunch ready to eat when he arrived. So shortly after eleven, when I had been diligently mopping and rinsing, scrubbing and mopping again for over two hours, I propped the mop in the flagpole holder, lined the broom up beside the landing net (which is not for fishing but in case MasterB falls in) and headed for the shower. Oddly, I was quite sad to curtail my cleaning efforts.

But it was lovely to see Older Nephew. I mentioned last week that he had been to the cricket with Charlie. Once it was arranged that Older Nephew should have Charlie’s spare ticket I suppose it occurred to both of them to wonder who they would be spending the day with and if they would get on. Older Nephew was the first to get in touch. It’s quite a hard question to answer, so I just said that Charlie has two great loves, his family and cricket; that he is married to Celia and obviously adores her. The two chaps were in email contact. Charlie noted that Older Nephew is at Cambridge and contacted to me to make sure he wasn’t a scientist, a subject that Charlie has a bit of a blank about.

I think I have mentioned before that my family is not known for strong jawed taciturn types. Should any of us, whether of Irish or English stock attempt to kiss the Blarney Stone there should probably be international warnings. Older Nephew is not short of this gene. Neither is Charlie, though so far as I know we are not related.

I still haven’t seen Charlie, but Older Nephew tells me he was at the same college where Older Nephew has his tenure. As someone who travels the globe in pursuit of cricket matches, I get the impression Charlie has become a bit of a role model for my youngish relative.

So anyway, we had our lunch and finished off a bottle of white wine that was in the fridge, then headed out briefly for the open waters. Though not before I had to ask him to cancel the initial manoeuvres as I had forgotten to unplug the hook up. That could have been nasty. As it was we enjoyed thirty minutes on the open waters, saw the grebes with their two babies, waved to the neighbours who were also out, and Older Nephew brought das Boot back to her mooring with impressive smoothness and skill. He had work to do, so he left for Cambridge and I do the washing up then headed over to the organic farm to get some salad for tonight and some of their fresh veg to take home tomorrow.

The sun is really beating down now, so I shall be quite happy to drink my lager, read my book and be generally lazy until sundown. Then I suspect MasterB will ask to go ashore again, and tonight I’ll take my camera in case there’s a sky to equal last night’s. Perhaps a bit more boat cleaning in the morning as the neighbours have offered to help me turn das Boot around, then home tomorrow lunchtime. There’s another post I want to put up, so if I get the urge this could be a two post Tuesday. But don’t hold your breath.

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