Still Some Chaos but Def-in-ate-ully Movin’ Ride Al-oung
Well the week began with interesting positions
Now call me old fashioned but when Bear said I’ve been a clever boy – Look – all I could think was one word, Bondage, and then I had to have a closer look with actions
Apparently Bear could use the West Marine work bench free of charge, off he went for a while on one of the boatyard bikes. What he had so beautifully created was the lifting straps for Baby Beez. Next there was plenty of grunting in small places and lots of drilling, well at least I can never get bored, never can tell what’s goin’ ta happen next.
Very worrying when you can see an eye looking up out of the sea toilet cupboard floor FROM THE OUTSIDE and then a finger gets poked through amongst all the saw dust. This new edition to the exterior is for my outside salt water shower, I can wash the fish I catch and rinse the cockpit with sea water rather than waste precious fresh water, I will be impressed I’m sure. A little worrying that Bear has got over his paranoid fear of drilling holes in the hull.
Meanwhile I was reacquainting myself with the sewing machine that is awesome IF you remember to pull the wheel toward you and the cotton is threaded from left to right. Now talking of threading needles I would be in serious trouble if I was on fire and my life depended on successful and quick threading – then I remembered back in the UK being told I had to wear reading glasses. I found them in the smaller pile of chaos called home, applied them to the end of my beak and the hole in the needle now looks the size of a goal post. However if I look up quick the world is a fuzzy mess, must get some bi-focals when we go UK side next. Double quick threading each and every time, Captain – I told you once you put them on you would see the benefit, everyone over forty has some level of eyesight loss.
Have you ever seen a bag of industrial sized cotton reels swung with such force and accuracy
Run Bear, Run.
The cheap imitation Sunbrella I bought for eleven pounds for loads of yards and made into can covers, as you can see it didn’t last, in fact it is to the “rub it between your fingers and it crumbles” mode with very little colour left at all. It was a chance I took as the price for the real deal was ten times what I paid. It wasn’t a complete waste of time as the new ones have design modifications and I can now be call the Zandra Rhodes of oil-can covers, complete with zig-zag detailing. Even the petrol can for Baby Beez looks posh. Talking of Baby Beez..................
Finally I can report to Mark, Kate, Jack, Adam, Jenny and Alex that I spent half a day doing the letters. So thank you all for officially naming, buying the letters and being patient until I rustled myself into action to be able to add the above pictures of Baby Beez. I knew it would be ‘one of those jobs’ and it was. The glue has had to live in the fridge, two part, mixed, then good for four hours. Once mixed, eyes watering, I had to glue the backs of the letters and paint glue where I wanted to stick them, wait for twenty five minutes, do the same, wait for five and then apply in a one hit, one move, one chance fix. Well they are not coming off, EVER.
There is a level of clutter about the place and Bear asks me not to look in the office or I’ll have a thrommy so I do spend quite a bit of time looking in one of my kitchen cupboards looking at my neat shelves to give me a level of Karma. The oil cans – I thought the job was finished was elongated by three. The replacement cans, all done and on deck in my mind had finished that chore, no, the ones that should have been thrown away by the captain had a reprieve. I think I’ll keep them for the Pacific crossing, people say you can never have enough fuel on board. Oh great.
Bear braced himself for the murky job of anti-fouling. I made the bug shield
My present for being good with my chores was two new fenders that don’t need fluffy covers. They will be good in locks and if we have to go up against anything really mucky.
What more can a girl want. All the fluffy ones have been made and Bear has put all the cans in their places.
The new plastic for the conservatory has a story. I carefully drew the pattern of each piece and knew I needed to order one hundred and twenty inches. Easy. When it came to say that number out loud on the telephone to Bert – I heard myself say ten yards. I didn’t think about that until the middle of that night so my roll of “ten feet” arrived three times as fat. Oh well you have enough to replace them in five years time.
Have you ever seen a four foot cardboard tube come down on someone’s head like a guillotine.
Scuttle away Bear, Scuttle
Anyway the left picture shows five layers of the new plastic. The right picture five layers of the old stuff. Now for the heavyweight battle of sewing in the new.
Bear off yet again on a mission in the boatyard car. Bear had stayed a fairly clean boy until that is – he kicked the bucket. Interesting Crocs
The girl with her newly blackened bottom.
ALL IN ALL THE JOB LIST IS GETTING SHORTER