Where’s Hobo..?

Not here…On closer inspection of the jetty…You will see why. Well and truly buggered, for want of a better (printable) word.

I am on a promise, so to speak, and so have agreed to (temporarily) move into a currently, unexpectedly available spot – long story.

A promise of a new jetty, work to be carried out by the hired help at the farm here, under the close supervision of the farm owner – a fearsome lady, not to be messed with. She and I have agreed what needs doing and come up with a plan that suits us both. Between you and me though, I feel the need to keep a close eye on things just in case the temptation to cut corners gets too strong – if you know what I mean.

Hobo’s well-being is vitally important and directly linked to mine. A fact I have known for some time but that has been impressed sharply on me the last few days, since the move. At the moment, Hobo is not happy so neither am I.

So where is she..?Looks fine on the face of it.

Certainly a good sturdy boarding platform..But.

You may have spotted that Hobo has a boat on the outside, preventing me from seeing the river and depriving BB of those all important shafts of sunlight – especially precious at this time of year when there is so little of it.

So I don’t get to see the ducks, don’t get rainbows bouncing around the boat, can’t watch boats passing and wave to their drivers. Even first thing when I pop out the cushion from the bedroom porthole it’s depressing. All is see is another boat – no view of the sky, sunshine, rain or whatever. No way of knowing what goes on in the great outdoors, which is something I enjoy contemplating from my bed. Normally.

And as if all that isn’t bad enough, Hobo is aground. Not only is she not floating, which feels weird when you are used to the boat moving gently beneath you as you walk about, but has the effect of making me stagger sideways (floor not level) and anyone watching would think I was drunk – as if. Perhaps I should drink more…

She is listing to port. Quite badly. Enough to swing the stove door shut so, as I fill the shovel with coal, the way into the fire is blocked by the time my shovel-bearing arm gets there. So a simple one-handed job becomes a bit of a schlepp, almost now needing a third hand in order to complete such a simple task. Don’t forget the stove door is bloody hot so you don’t really want to be touching it. I have a system, which suits me, of placing the scuttle on its side on the deck above so I can dig in for a scoopful at a time. I have a friend who can launch a full scuttle at the small opening and deliver a load of coal right where it needs to be. I tried it. Just the once – never again.

So anyway, at Hobo’s current angle, my cleverly placed sideways scuttle rolled to the edge of the doorway, delivering its load (nicely damp coal and dust) right  onto my steps, lounge floor, behind the chair onto the rug. Mess doesn’t cover it.

The cupboard and fridge (also on the starboard side) do similar – as in doors swinging wildly open if I am not careful – and drawers opposite have become difficult to open (pulling against the angle) but slam shut in the blink of an eye…. Mind those fingers!

And it makes it even harder to get out of bed.

This all sounds pretty miserable I know. Of course there is a short term solution and John and I plan to turn her around – hopefully tomorrow.

Her bow (which doesn’t sit so deep in the water) should float and come to rest against this other little jetty…The boat that was here before, being about 10ft longer than Hobo, would have sat nicely between the two platforms, held off the shelf and would have floated. The hope is that Hobo will too, albeit too challenged in the length department to rest on both. We can only try.

As there’s no sign of furious activity in the building of my new place either, it could be that John and his new-found ex US marine friend – of good solid strong stock by all accounts – end up doing it.

And, as if I haven’t whinged enough already, my current location is as far away from everything as it possibly can be. So even further to haul stuff – shopping, coal, carzy, water hose (now doesn’t reach so have to gypo a couple of short lengths together in order to fill up) and myself – dog dirt alley being currently at its finest just now. Boggy and muddy, not to mention cold.

Oh woe is me.

I do always try to look on the bright side (cue Eric Idle, secured to the cross – sorry if you didn’t see ‘The Life of Brian; you missed a treat and won’t know what I’m on about).

There is a lovely canoe stored in the nettles…Which might just have to go walkabout if I am here much longer.

No doubt some of my gloom can be attributed to not being out there on the river – free and footloose And also the onset of winter. The leaves are at last turning and doing their spectacular thing but once they are gone we have those so short days, bitter cold, rain, snow, ice and so much mud to look forward to.

I’ve been trawling through my pictures lately, especially the southern hemisphere ones, one way of getting some sunshine and open spaces…Oh… big sigh.

Normal service to be resumed soon I hope.

I will, as ever, keep you posted on (hopefully) tomorrow’s successful re-positioning. It won’t entirely solve the sunlight issue, though should help a bit but, certainly if it re-floats me and my boat, I shall be a whole lot happier.