At home in Colehill, Dorset 6 December 2023
Hello Dear Readers,
I hope you have had a year with more joys than regrets and as the old year declines I would like to thank you once again for following our travels and adventures.
Well, when we arrived at Zoonie last Thursday we didn’t need to put the fridge on as it was 7 degrees in the saloon and the same each morning when we awoke, until Eddie the Eberspacher heater had been at work for an hour, bringing the temperature up to 20 degrees.
On our previous visit Eddie was on strike and the threat of a £100 callout charge to be likely told the part needed was no longer available, spurred us on to some original thinking. It worked last time so there cannot be much wrong. After all the storms, maybe something had come adrift during Zoonie’s fidgeting on a disturbed sea.
Rob disappeared into the lazarette and objects popped out as he cleared a way to the motor in its chicken coop.
“Aha,” came the welcome cry, an important pipe had come adrift and was soon refixed; more securely this time. So, now when we are aboard, Zoonie’s gentle heater-hum joins the others with the same source of comfort as ours; a thermal orchestra throughout the marina.
We have been having a fine time recently in preparation for the festivities. Instead of using our bank accounts to buy presents this year, we have enjoyed making things; bottles of sloe gin and bramble whisky, jars of my vintage (at least 17-year-old) marmalade (I kept the three remaining jars of 30-year-old marmalade for home use. I made a batch of twenty or so pots to occupy my mind after a particularly painful break up, and since I moved in with Rob, they have been languishing in storage for 14 years until we moved in here.)
Much of the delicious confection had turned to orangey sugar; so I microwaved the jar contents until they were bubbling, stirred until all the sugar dissolved, and then re-sealed them when cool.
One creation I am proud of is a dress for our youngest granddaughter, Clara. While we were in New Zealand, I made one for our only granddaughter at the time, Ruby. The cost of the fabric for some reason was extortionate, but fortunately Ruby liked the end result and she has worn the dress many times, latterly as a tunic over leggings.
So, as the pattern could be made to fit a broad age range simply by cutting the fabric along different lines, I found there was just enough left for a dress for Clara. I hope she likes it too.
Rob has found his retreat in the shed. Now that we have cleared some space in there and he has successfully linked up an electricity cable from the house, so he now has light, heating if he wishes, and his little black tranny, that circumnavigated with us, to provide some light entertainment. But what should we call it? Rob’s Man Cave, Rob’s Retreat (from Granny), Rob’s Realm, Rob’s Roost?
I was wandering up the garden the other day to tend my lettuce leaves and chat with my seedlings in the greenhouse, when the sound of sawing came from the well-lit cavern. End result so far; two grand compost crates with hinged lids and two super bird tables, one of the latter to be another Christmas gift. He likes to work in pairs, so what could I suggest next?
We have just returned from Zoonie in time to take the fleece from over the brassicas and allow the rain in. It’s going to be like stage performances until they are hardy enough; fleece on before a frost and off as soon as it passes, curtain up, curtain down!
I’m off for a swim tomorrow with my friendly blue-tits (such an appropriate name this time of year). The sea is warmer than the air at the moment; so, its pre-swim chat, brisk dip, no more than a minute per degree for safety, then the struggle to get dry and dressed in the tit cave, a roomy pavilion that faces the sun, so if its shining in then we are nice and warm. Finally, a good chat with hot drinks and cakes, while telling myself to stop shivering, I cannot possibly be cold in all my layers topped with dry robe; but then the body continues to cool after leaving the water, for around forty minutes; a fact with which I am well acquainted.
Yesterday, as I waded slowly into the water with around twenty other ladies and one chap; it felt as if a thousand little piranha were breakfasting off my rapidly reddening legs, did they understandably mistake me for a lobster; the pain was distracting my mind from the lovely calm air and flat sea. Admittedly storms and a cold have halted my swims lately, so I guess I am now a little soft to the chill. So maybe that means I need to go more often!
By way of celebrating Christmas, this Friday us tits are off for a bit of pottery painting followed by a meal at the Moon on the Square, Wetherspoons, in Bournemouth, that’s if they haven’t closed it!
To remind us constantly of the wonderful time we had amid the mountains and waterways of Scotland aboard Zoonie, I follow a number of Scottish feeds on my phone. They are not just for admiring the kilted young men (and women) that like to show of the beauty of their home, but also to remember how the perpetual majesty of the scenery seems to open up a seam directly to the soul and fills the mind with joy.
So now and over the next few weeks, like many, we will enjoy the wonderful family we are blessed with and we hope that all of you will also thrive in these closing days of 2023 and spend time with your nearest and dearest.
With love and fond wishes,
Rob and Barb xxxx
I do hope you have an enjoyable festive time with a mixture of company and the chance to relax and take stock,
All the best and love from
Barb and Rob xx