Captain Ahab’s Word for the Day: ‘The absence of rain does not tee shirt weather make.’
And how much wisdom is there contained in those few short words! Nevertheless waking up this morning and realising that the sense of something missing was entirely due to the fact that the rain had ceased was a welcome moment. Although it is with some horror that I then realised my excuse for avoiding the locks had gone. Not being born to life aboard or even a natural, has allowed me a ‘wet weather exemption’. In return for sumptuous feasts and sexual favours, I am granted the privilege of remaining dry in torrential downpours. This seems perfectly reasonable. After all, Captain Ahab is already soaked to the skin because maintaining a steady hand at the tiller renders it impossible to keep dry in such circumstances. No sense in both of us getting wet, is there? And besides, it’s his boat, he likes the weather. I am a hothouse flower in need of preservation, gentler climes and general all round cosseting. Consequently this morning I had to pull out all the stops in order to continue with my cosseted lifestyle. Up at the crack of dawn (that is what you call 10:30, isn’t it?), I prepared a gourmet repast of hot bacon on wholemeal and organic sausage on white rolls, washed down with freshly ground coffee and freshly squeezed orange. At least the packets promised me they were fresh. Obviously it was nearly midday by the time I had everything together, because ripping open packets takes time and skill. Even then I muddled up the mustard and tomato sauce so it seems that I’m on lock duty after all. Must look out my thermals …
And how much wisdom is there contained in those few short words! Nevertheless waking up this morning and realising that the sense of something missing was entirely due to the fact that the rain had ceased was a welcome moment. Although it is with some horror that I then realised my excuse for avoiding the locks had gone. Not being born to life aboard or even a natural, has allowed me a ‘wet weather exemption’. In return for sumptuous feasts and sexual favours, I am granted the privilege of remaining dry in torrential downpours. This seems perfectly reasonable. After all, Captain Ahab is already soaked to the skin because maintaining a steady hand at the tiller renders it impossible to keep dry in such circumstances. No sense in both of us getting wet, is there? And besides, it’s his boat, he likes the weather. I am a hothouse flower in need of preservation, gentler climes and general all round cosseting. Consequently this morning I had to pull out all the stops in order to continue with my cosseted lifestyle. Up at the crack of dawn (that is what you call 10:30, isn’t it?), I prepared a gourmet repast of hot bacon on wholemeal and organic sausage on white rolls, washed down with freshly ground coffee and freshly squeezed orange. At least the packets promised me they were fresh. Obviously it was nearly midday by the time I had everything together, because ripping open packets takes time and skill. Even then I muddled up the mustard and tomato sauce so it seems that I’m on lock duty after all. Must look out my thermals …
2 comments:
no that made me laugh out loud, thanks Belle
Glad to oblige EB :)
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