... the mice will play.
The Cat being Hans, and Wilbur and I the mice.
Hans has been away on business this week in Canada and normally this would be great for him as he gets to visit his baby brother but wouldn't you know this would be the year of the endless winter. He very narrowly escaped being snowed in while in Halifax and is currently enjoying (read sarcasm here) 20 degree temps, gray skies, and heavy snow in Toronto.
We're both looking forward to his return tomorrow night and I've promised him a huge pot of home made chile with lots of Italian bread and butter, and a cooler full of beer (purchased at American, not Canadian prices!). Actually, I should say we're all three looking forward to his return as poor Wilbur, who is fine during the day, surely misses Hans in the evening. Wilbur gets worked up every time a car drives by and he alternates between sitting in the salon with me and then thumpety bumping down to our berth where I believe he thinks if he falls asleep there, Hans will magically reappear.
So get this. Today I was at my favorite fabric store (no sarcasm here, it really is fantastic) when the lady waiting on me said, "Is the weather improving out there yet?"
I was puzzled because the sky was bright blue and completely cloudless while a wonderful cool breeze with absolutely no humidity made me realize (for now but probably not next week) how happy I am to live in Florida. "Oh my God!" I exclaimed. "It's gorgeous out there!" and understand, I was in my usual uniform of shorts and flip flops.
"You must be nuts." was her casual reply. Because heavens to Betsy, it was a bitter 68 degrees out! These crazy native born Floridians!
|Wilbur toasts his sad little bones in the cockpit while he awaits his masters return.|
|Wilbur went to bed in our berth tonight much earlier than usual while waiting for Hans to come home. He heaved a huge sigh when I covered him with a blanket. He's not happy unless we're all together as a pack.|
So while Hans has been gone this week:
I woke up later than usual, didn't get the things done I thought I would, and ended up eating bologna sandwiches for dinner (just one night. Really).
I got out my sewing machine and it's yet to get put away.
Therefore there's no room on our table for me to eat my meals.
But that's okay since Wendy's take out containers are pretty sturdy.
Even though our queen sized berth is missing a rather large German Man, I still find myself mashed up against the wall. It would appear that Wilbur requires a great deal of room for his tender pitty body, and I'm thrilled that he so loves my Memory Foam Pillow.
I've kept an eagle eye on our bilges and batteries.
Yet, after carefully locking Wilbur and myself in for the night, including securing all our hatches and having my phone beside me, I awoke one morning to find my keys still stuck in the cockpit door. On the outside.
I know Wilbur and I will be very glad to have Hans come home tomorrow night. The boat would never get cleaned otherwise, Wilbur needs his daddy, and I can't eat a whole pot of chile on my own. Actually, I could. I just miss Hans.