3 months and counting

The trellisFirstly, the Swedish boys are safe after a bit of (one hell of) a pounding and some significant breakages. They had youth on their side and now have a story to tell in bars across the world about leaving Beaufort, North Carolina in dodgy conditions and being pitched about like a drunk pole vaulter in a malfunctioning washing machine

I have become that character in a Two Ronnies sketch this week, the one who continually confuses their words. My week has been mostly stood on a trellis removing old varnish or painting new in its place. When I say trellis, I don’t mean trellis at all. I mean platform or at a stretch, trestle, but the word trellis is etched in the front of my brain and no amount of sand papering will rid it from my vocabulary. Perhaps I need an Australian cricketer to help. Sorry, American people, you won’t understand that.

My great Aunty Gladys was a legend and occasionally confused words too. When the video player was a new fangled addition to households up and down the country,  she bought one. It never played video tapes as far as I am aware. She didn’t know how to use the machine. It was the most expensive digital clock you could buy.  But the best bit was her name for this contraption. She called it her ‘vi – day – o’. Classy.

For you boaty people, I will share with you the list of jobs we have ticked off being here when we are floating in the water. Not before. After another week and a half of delays because the main engineer here was off sick, things are moving again and our mast may be vertical on Friday after a long rest in the horizontal position. Fingers, toes and trellises crossed.






7 thoughts on “3 months and counting

  1. sandra jepson says:

    Ha yes the vid -ay- o as in Monte Video. This did make me chuckle, also reminded of Granny saying ‘a la posh’ at the rare appearance of a bottle of wine !
    I’m meant to be working and I’ve now spent half an hour reading your blog.
    Right discipline now Sandra x


    • grace of longstone says:

      We were oh so posh! A tiny tiny minuscule Sherry at Christmas was my introduction to alcohol. I remember it being ‘bloody awful’. I thought why do people drink such dreadful stuff. Guess a good savvy blanc hadn’t reached northumberland at that point in history.

      Thanks for distracting yourself with my ramblings. We are staying at Jenny’s in Worcester one weekend in September. Sorry can’t remember which but Dad is planning on coming down too. Jenny mentioned about inviting you and Chris over that day. Not sure if she’s been in touch but if logistics do work, I’d be great to see you. Sure Jenny would welcome a call.


  2. Lisa says:

    Love the slippers! At least you are cosy on your trellis.
    Happy Easter, maybe the bunny will bring you a vertical mast. Who needs eggs anyway xx


  3. Linnit says:

    I love all the photos of bits…are you in fact doing a reverse flat pack and just dismantling said boat?
    If you were about to go on stage I would say break a leg but break anything seems the worst sentiment at the moment….good luck with it all coming together!


  4. Mel says:

    The ‘word thing’ is definitely gender-specific Helen, and it runs in families. Pete and the kids will tell you their frustrations at my hereditary predicament; in my case it has skipped a generation.


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