Waiting For Company

Note: As may happen quite frequently this is the second of two posts put up today, the other post "Learning to let go" was written the day before this one. If getting the chronology right matters to you, read that one first. But it doesn't really matter. B

Sort of a fun day today, George Michael get back today so I have been sorting the boat out. Over the last while I had moved my possessions around the place liberally. Books sat on the table, Lucy on a seat, a pile of dirty dishes by the sink and paper was scattered everywhere. Now I am the veritable paragon of cleanliness. My stuff is all in its home neatly in my cabin, even Lucy is in her bag snugly fitted next to the hull. The washing up is done, the surfaces cleaned, the floor swept and moped. I have brushed and washed the decks, wiped dirty marks away and piled any loose things neatly.

Last night the gas ran out as I was cooking dinner, of course. Luckily everything was pretty much cooked, I just had very al dente pasta. Today I successfully negotiated my way to a new gas canister, and made restocked all the boat supplies I had used up in the last few days. I have also managed to fit in writing a new tune on the guitar with a nice but very complex altering bass line that requires the use of my thumb on the bottom strings of the fret board; got all the way to the four hundred and seventh page of War and Peace and contact juggled for an hour with an orange (almost as good as the proper ball but with the advantage of being soft and floating).

I am expecting George Michael in the next hour or so, it’s a little odd I had kind of got used to being by myself. Ok so yes, I am going so crazy I have named my guitar and given her a personality (she is a lovable but cheeky little minx who has a habit of being rude though no-one could ever hold it against her). Yes, I caught myself proclaiming to the skies last night about scales of morality and when something should be placed on said scale. And yes, have read two books in a day each as well as reading a third of Tolstoy. But I was enjoying being slightly mad, now I’ll have to be all chatty and witty and the effort will be just too much.

Oh I almost forgot, I haven’t been wholly alone. A lovely English couple are on the boat next door, so I’ve had some nice chat with them over the last few days. Last night me and Lucy gave a concert to a boat full on slightly crazed Germans who spoke about as much English as I do German. They invited me onto their boat, gave me a beer, I played for twenty minutes. They applauded and laughed in a very Teutonic way, one of them ever had a daft moustache and would not have looked out of place in lederhosen. I left fairly quickly scared by their beaming smiles and odd questions (You are alone on the boat? You like salami? You staying here alone? Why do you play guitar? Is anyone else with you?). As I stood on the gangplank (yep they really had a gangplank) to get ashore they applauded again, I turned round, bowed, smiled and promptly fell into the dock.

Much laughter ensued. Lucy was safe though don’t worry I threw her at the Germans as I fell. Fifteen minute later I had showered and changed and was sat feeling quite daft rewarding myself with a whisky and a gentle bit of blues.