It wasn’t the most auspicious start to our few days away. I got caught up with some stuff this morning and MasterB stubbornly refused to have a pee before I put him in the car. Instead, just about a mile from home, he began to cry and then had a pee in his basket, immediately followed by a poo. He then cried a lot more, distressed at having to share his space with his own waste.
Fortunately I was able to pull over into a car park for customers at a group of shops on the Old Kent Road. For those of you only familiar with the district via the British version of the board game Monopoly, I should tell you it is a busy road with several lanes of traffic. MasterB showed a worrying desire to get out of the car. For obvious reasons I had lifted him out of his basket. I then had to use the basket, still with pee and poo, to block his exit. I am not sure which of us was the most stressed by this. Basket emptied, I then had to get it into the car again without my cat getting out. I ended up holding him firmly round his middle and shutting him into the basket, now equipped with clean newspaper, before closing the door and getting his seat belt round the basket again.
I don’t know if anyone watched this performance. I was much too concerned to get it done to look out for onlookers. After that he settled and slept for most of the journey, which was just as well as I think we hit every red light on the route and ended up travelling through school traffic. Never a good idea, though it did give me the chance to study the truly hideous uniforms girls have to wear at some schools in Bishops Stortford. Is this an infringement of their human rights, or their rights as children not to be made to look ridiculous? There seemed a lot of school children about well before three thirty. Are schools finishing earlier?
Finally we reached the open road and and fifth gear. We drove through countryside where I could see the hay has been baled, and the crops harvested. The sun shone, but the fields had an almost naked look. It made me an ache; I ached to get my boots on and walk, and I ached for more countryside in my life.
The marina was very quiet. At first I thought we were the only ones here, then I noticed two cars parked at the far end, half hidden by some shrubs. Military aircraft screamed above us on some exercise or other I presume, or maybe just late for something. I slowly unpacked the car and did some preparatory interior boat cleaning. MasterB walked down to the boat in his harness and immediately tucked into a meal.
Two of the little day boats have disappeared. Maybe the owners have decided to end the season early. The boat in need of much tlc with an aggressive name has gone. I heard it had been sold and the new owners are going to restore it. In its place there is a very cheerful looking little yellow boat. Maybe a photograph tomorrow.
I have sent a text to Stuart to say I am here in the hope that will nudge him into completing the small but outstanding tasks that need to be done before the end of the season. I shall call him in the morning if I don’t hear from him first.
Paul Simon is singing away on the CD player, and the television is working again, so tomorrow I shall try to watch the second programme about cats and dogs, and learn if MasterB really does love me as much I believe he does, or the amount I love him will have to be enough for both of us.
Stay safe. Keep well. Be kind.