Beez Neez now Chy Whella

Worse

Big Bear and Pepe Millard

Sun 9 Feb 2014 23:57

Yes, Poor Beez Neez Got a Whole Lot Worse

Bear dangling. Don’t ask – I didn’t.

Yes, they say things get worse before they get better. Just look at the sea berth, the office and my poor desk. How come it’s now your poor desk. Keep up your lip with me and I’ll bite you, right this minute. Bite me, that’s just about all you can do. Mmmmm.

This may look like an ordinary thumb, pollex or very important digit, but, my DIPJ (distal intaphalangeal joint) is beyond sore and my MCPJ (metacarpophalangeal joint) has had it. Now, I can only hold a varnish tin or pot for five minutes, then I have to remove it with my other hand and unlock these very fed up joints.

Since using my massive tailors scissors for the first time in yonkers (trimming the carpet pieces ready for installation – when ??? – don’t ask I didn’t), I immediately gave myself blisters, which readily bleed, not in the varnish I hope, thank you for your sympathy, DEAR. You are so welcome. Hear Pepe growling loudly.

Have you heard of anyone planning an eyeball attack with a cocktail stick

You can’t hold anything that small.

Get back here and I will bite you.

Catch me first sweetie.

You wait. You just wait.

Payback.

Actually, things had to halt and deviate for a day. Bear finished the water maker panel, moved some wires, re-housed the diesel heater tank. I wish I could say I provided the ‘lash marks’ on his back, but I have to admit that they occurred during his work. The marks are from him laying against the sharp cupboard edge, upside down I’ll have you know, correction then, many times thank you and wiggling back and forth. In the picture the skipper is finishing painting the inside of the cupboard – the bits I can’t reach. Is that because of your gentle, sweet, delicate self...............I suggest you take on an outside job in the next three seconds. Yes dear. Much more growling.

In fact much, much, much, more growling as I wandered back to finishing my halted job. Bear had cleaned the brush from above, left the lid off the thinners AND just look at my new varnish – spattered with bloody grey undercoat. See an incandescent Pepe. THAT’S IT, no more decorating until you have made a stage exeunt left, permanently. Ooooops.

Payback on me this time. I used some of the open thinners to get a sticky mark off the sea berth toilet ceiling. What did I do, put it straight into my little pinky wound, bleeding yet again, since I had hit it on the jubilee clip at the back of the toilet. I have made myself a pledge – to clean for an hour a day, on top of decorating jobs, just to keep up with household chores. Saturdays cleaning job was taking everything out of the sea berth toilet, scrubbing it within an inch of its life and putting the temporary stowage stuff back, after it too had been washed. At this very second I have so much stinging going on in my thinners bathed wound – I didn’t know I knew that many swear words, or that I could run a continuing paragraph of such words, not repeating myself once. I’ll stay outside methinks. Good idea captain.

I took this picture of the skipper pondering his navel fluff. I was not. Moving on quickly. In amongst all the chaos (and just in front of his head) is the said “gopping” flower vase, the peace offering from his last misdeed. Wonder how he is going to make up for the grey spattering.............Mmmmm. Anyway, how this daft item has a) stayed in one piece b) not been flung – either overboard or at the said skipper and c) the flowers have managed to do well. Have to say in a mad second, I have to admit to taking an arty shot, the first in what seems like months.

OK so you can have another one.

Mmmm.

Beez now has her rain coat on, now the noise of the tarp crinkling and snatching, duets with the bird that shrieks all night long. We know just how much rain has fallen in the South West and watched the various videos of waves pounding. We know it’s no consolation, but we have had days on end of solid rain and winds to thirty five knots. People out on anchor and on mooring balls have travelled miles in circles. The Waitangi Treaty Day was a complete washout and one of the massive ceremonial waka (canoe) overturned.

This picture was taken at nine o’clock this morning – so dark and overcast.

On the radio at around sunset yesterday, we were listening to a sad chap who had cut a corner and hit rocks. His boat was taking on water, but he managed to limp in. Nick, the marina manager called in the boys and they were all ready to lift this sad lady out when she got here well after dark. Good to know the boys help out in emergencies. One blade on her right rudder is clearly bent. One on her left has a bite, a chunk clearly missing.

Sadly, and expensively, it is clearly visible that the housing of the left rudder has sustained some serious damage in the clonk, we can see the fuzzy, messy bits of fibreglass. Beez will have a new friend for a while.

Back indoors, I look out at a sorrowful looking cockpit. An unchanged looking lounge and a ‘some things in and some things out’ looking lounge floor. Yes, but........ please don’t continue, I feel it’s best for your health and well-being. Yes dear,but I did do all the cooking for us the other day. WHAT. You poured cereal and milk for breakfast, bought us a pie for lunch and tipped out pre-prepared, by me, salad for supper. I did make us a dollop of mash each. Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot that you boiled a kettle, tipped some powder into the water and stirred it with a fork, that hardly constitutes Gordon ruddy Blue............ Well, watch Bear skulking off and don’t let me hear a single Arrrrrrr.