Saturday, 10 August 2013

Camping at home

Vagabond I have now been separated for almost a month and I'm getting withdrawal symptoms. I assume she's still afloat and will find out next week, for I'm going to rejoin her in Lossiemouth. However, events dear boy have overtaken us (as one of pur former Prime Ministers used to say) and we will not be continuing the voyage this year.

The builders arrive at the end of next week and the Owners Agent insists that I am at home to supervise them whilst they remodel the ground floor.

Then it's the 100th birthday. My mother has rallied. The family has been summoned and about forty of us will converge on her old peoples home during the first week of Spetember. The Palace has been notified and we are assured that the official birthday greetings will be conveyed by Special Delivery on the appointed day. (Not quite a Queens Messenger but probably the nearest us commoners get to one!)

By the time the party is out of the way and the builders have finished it will be mid September.

The last month has been put to good use - the old kitchen has gone, the live electrics found behind the plasterboard have been nutralised, new electrics fitted, the walls replastered and the new floor laid. I have become even more familiar with the local recycling centres.

We are now camping at home, with the old sink unit outside, making good use of bucket, the microwave is in my "den", the fridge and a camping gas ring are in the garage.

Next week the kitchen fitters start work. The Owners Agent will supervise this, not I, so I can take the trailer north to take Vagabond out of the water and take her to her winter quarters. At the moment, I am undecided whether to bring her back to the barn in Buckinghamshore, or take her to Balvicar (where we finished the trip last year) and leave her under a tarpaulin.

Watch this space.