No Arrr's
Beez Neez now Chy Whella
Big Bear and Pepe Millard
Sun 15 Mar 2015 10:57
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Don’t Let Me Hear Any of You
Saying Arrrr.......
 I needed to slip to
the loo this morning and as it was raining I grabbed the first jacket on the peg
in the office. Slipping the camera in the pocket – following the motto never to
leave home without it off I went. A grey morning with
not a bird to be seen or heard. Camera and hands pushed down in pockets,
something scrunched in the bottom of the right pocket.
 I pulled the contents of the pocket –
two butters and Mayonnaise. Now bear in mind that the
last time Bear had this particular jacket on was on Mabel..............I worked
out exactly where these bits came from and when he stowed them..............
18th of August last year. Walking back toward Beez I found Bear under another
boat chatting to her owner. When I showed said objects all Bear could say was he
was ready for our next picnic. You scabby
little boy. I’m not little. The other
skipper was giggling and at this point admitted to “pulling a pair of waterproof
trousers out of a seldom used cupboard, they shredded into many dusty pieces.” I
looked from one man to the other clearly outnumbered. They both
shrugged.
 We walked down to Ashby’s dock and
looked across the bay, we could see the clouds lower in the sky, quite a
difference in the last hour. We heard a creaking and a dull banging and went to
check on Mack Attack [the red boat], dig the
brackets........ The back was protected by the wooden pile but the unfendered
front was being crunched hard against the sick-dock pontoon. Bear decided we
should walk up to the office and see if they could call the owner to warn him.
I’ll come too, I said more brightly than the weather. Fine rain was falling. The
ladies said they would phone the owner, handed Bear a small package, we bade
them a good day and we bimbled back home. We could see the smaller boats all
dancing in the wind. The rain grew heavier, we walked much quicker. Cater
Marine, the other chandlery responsible for severely damaging the flexibility of
our visa card was clearly doing brisk business, a man smiled as we complemented
him on the massive fender he had under his arm, others had chunks of rope and
all manner of things to secure boats of all sizes.
 Look at my
new bulbs, do you know....... Don’t call me Juno. Anyway, one of these little chaps was three pounds eighty, a
hundred cost three pounds seventy three, a thousand was ten pounds ninety, so I
bought a hundred. I think I was supposed to say wow or well done but
I was still as cross as a wasp about the potentially septic butter and mayo. All
I could muster was, how long do those little bulbs last ??? Oh they are guaranteed for one hundred thousand hours.
My pitch went up to a resounding mezzo soprano – so you bought enough bulbs for
one thousand, one hundred and forty point eight years........... I guess so. Thank the Lord they are only small at a
defeated alto level.
This is not the first, I dare say not
the last that the cleptoman I am married to, has secured this level of spares,
or spares of spares in case the spare fails. No wonder you can’t get a blunt
tack in your over stuffed shed. I think you are being a
bit harsh. Oh says the man raising the waterline and anti-fouling up
another few inches. That’s a foot since we’ve left the UK, so you keep telling me. Don’t you mouth me........ said in a low,
menacing fashion.........
ALL IN ALL YOU WONDER WHY I
GET CROSS WITH HIM
YES, BUT I AM
PREPARED
I’LL GIVE YOU PREPARED
Have you ever seen anyone Frisbee a
breadboard with such accuracy.
Run Bear,
Run |