Winter warming

The weather has been brutal of late. Though Millbrook got the worst of it, Cawsand has had a share of flooding which, though destructive for an unhappy few, has proved quite a laugh for us. Last night I gave Rich a piggyback through this in my wellies on our way to the pub.

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So today’s sailing lesson was off. We went to Gwen, cranked up the fire and got to work. I routered and primed some bits of wood which will end up on deck (I can’t for the shitting life of me remember what they’re called)* and Rich demolished what was once the bathroom to make way for the superbed we’re planning to construct in the forward cabin. It’s so fricking nice to be back on board, and I can’t wait til I can stay over.

Two things really struck me today:

1) How knackering I find this sort of work. In my job taking notes for students I concentrate hard for several hours a day, having to listen to and understand the lectures enough to assess and get down the most important parts. I generally have enough energy to get home and piss about for a few hours, do some typing up, make some stuff or see friends, before I collapse in a happy mess in bed. But I get knocked out on a task like this – on keeping the router flat against the wood and painting the right bits – while using only a little more physical strength than it takes to write notes. It could just be the celebratory flood pints we knocked back last night, I suppose, but I expect it’s also that I’m not used to concentrating in this particular way. I was fine and feisty until every piece was finished and then *crash*. I had to have a half hour nap before dinner.

2) Power tools are cool. I’m guessing the router is a “gateway” power tool, the love of which will eventually escalate to an addiction to hard power tools. I’m already eying up the angle grinder. Expect to see me lying in a gutter hugging a chainsaw before the year is up.

I’ve felt sort of trapped lately, probably tied to being back to the closest to a grown-up 9-5 job I’ve had for a long while. It’s not that I don’t like structure in my life, but I prefer to be able to break free from it whenever I like, and I like my own space and free time to be the default. If I get into a routine I feel like a slave to it – a wifey, an employee, a devotee. It reached a bit of a crunch point last week so Rich and I have abandoned the regular days we see each other and decided to just grab time together whenever we feel like it. Turns out it’s just as often, if not more, but with the ominous sense of obligation removed from my flighty funny mind. Having said that, one pillar remains – Sunday is, whenever possible, Gwen day. And I fucking love Gwen day. Today I enjoyed learning, enjoyed Rich, enjoyed working towards something, and when work ended we had a roast in the marina cafe and a foodshop in what’s left of Millbrook and all was right with the world.

*edit: toe rail!

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