Nerve Centre Week 2

Well, I did dinner on the boat - cooking on gas. Fillet steak no less.

All jolly good, but The Boat Currently Without Any Potplants is lacking a certain necessity as well as plants - namely a dining table. We had to make do with the rear deck. Mon dieu! Sacre Blue.

As 'Erindoors (yes, she's back!) would say to me: "Why do you always have to make something so simple into something so complicated?" She does have a point.

I could buy a folding table from The Range for twenty squids.

Or I could even make one myself out of a bit of B&Q ply.

But that wouldn't be me.

So, I'm hoping that my good neighbour from across the road, Sam, can help me when he next goes to Cornwall to his fab place that we want to rent next year.

You see, I've asked him to look out for a surfboard that I can saw in half and turn into a boat-table. It's all very logical to me. I hope Sam can find one for me. There's an Aldi steak in it for him if he can.

Nerve Centre Week 1

Town Councillor Phil Booth Delivering Big News

A week of extraordinary heat saw 'Erindoors and me working outdoors in temperatures far beyond what we were used to. Felt like 100 degrees plus. We felt and looked miserable from first thing.
And it wasn't only that . . . It was a full-on week, for sure.

Monday: Prison
Tuesday: Royal Acadamy
Wednesday, Thursday and Friday: Another quality job painting Alice's Cottage (no job too small, etc etc)
Friday evening respite: RAIN. The first for over 50 days. Phew, what a scorcher that was.

'Erinoors and me. High temps predicted

And then, as if a mirage of hope upon the horizon, Phil (aka Phil Booth, Cincinnati Police Cop in Florida Key) came to The Boat Currently Without Any Potplants, to deliver some exciting news to me! VERY EXCITING. Written in caps, as Mr. Trump would do.

Apparently, the Mayor of Wiv is up for my suggestion of twinning our town with Montolieu. I know I oughtn't use too many '!'s. But, fuck it,  I will. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And a 'Working Committee' meeting is all set for 10th August to discuss what the next stage outta be.

Watch this space. I'll be buying the Powers That Be a few beers that evening, with my fingers firmly crossed behind my back for a positive motion for going forward.

The lovely 'Alice's Cottage'

Who knows where this may lead?

Certainly not me. I had no idea.

The Nerve Centre

The Boat Currently Without Any Potplants has now been renamed 'The Nerve Centre', and it has its own fish'n'chips bar on its rear, er, I can't remember what it's called. Lined up and ready with sauces and vinegar.

It's the place where my publisher (I still love saying that - it sounds so decadent and important), David Roberts and I go to hatch new and exciting marketing plans to help Florida Key to sell like hotcakes.

"You know that point-of-sale display we made out of your Missus' shoe-boxes to put by the till at the Co-op and on the bar at the Black Buoy? Well, how about we give away a hot cake with every book at the Co-op, and perhaps a bag of pork scratchings at The Black Buoy?" I suggested, with enthusiasm.

Unfortunately David wasn't listening.

He was too busy consuming his bottle of Sarsons Malt*.



* For non-Brits - that's a brand of vinegar

P's and Q's

This morning was another humbling one when I visited the library of Chelmsford Prison to talk with the inmates about the process of writing  - and hopefully getting the message across that it can be a positive thing to do, and never mind the comas and periods, let alone the p's and q's.

I waffled on about the story behind Florida Key, the writing process and the inspiration behind the story.







In my case it was a key I bought from a flea market that turned out to be from a prison (ironic, considering where I was). And a bike ride I took years ago when I met a Japanese cyclist going the other way in the middle of Kansas.

I don't suppose I sold many books today, but that wasn't the point of the excercise.

Like a Millpond

I spent a second night aboard Miss Baudet. And not because I've been kicked out by the present 'Erindoors, no sir!

With our home being fully occupied this weekend, last night a golden opportunity to take myself to The Boat Currently Without Any Potplants presented itself. With great chivalry I gave up my bed. I could have occupied the sofa, but the chance of waking up to the sound of seagulls and egrets squawking away was too hard to resist.

The call of nature eventually persuaded me to return home in the early hours to avail myself of the more comfortable facilities there - but I couldn't resist strolling along to the end of Wivenhoe pier to gaze at the river that was as calm as a millpond, with the incoming tide steadily creeping along its watery path.

Happiness is merely feedback of the current surroundings. Contentment is where it's really at.

First Night

It’s Friday night, and the first to be spent on the boat for many a year.
I have radio, duvet, wine, pillow.
Vegan (which I’m not but quite happy to have) is on its way.
There may be a storm tonight, or so they say.
I almost hope the weather prediction is correct.
Luvly Jubbly.

Mon Dieu! I'm in the papers.

I just found out that I'm in the papers!
A report relating to Florida Key's launch in Montolieu in the Carcassonne L'Independent, no less.
I won't know what it says until I've found my dictionary.
Something about me being a Big Pompe?

Negotiations

After a period of lengthy and tense negotiation, lasting approximately 30 seconds, the owner of Miss Baudet - Miss Baudet herself - has finally conceded that any boat worthy of the title A Boat For My Potplants does indeed need potplants on her.
And Astroturf.
And a Hi-fi.
And about time too.