Absence makes the heart grow fonder they say and distance gives space for effective reflection. We’ve found both to be true this past 2 weeks on enforced, planned exile from our floating home and office as she enjoys a bit of necessary pampering in dry dock.
It’s given us time and space to appreciate the past fortnight spending precious time travelling much faster in areas without navigable waterways. Seeing family we haven’t seen for years has been a delight and very special.
We’ve revelled in the luxury of deep hot baths, and flushing loos where there’s no thought that an over enthusiastic flush will hasten the time before a system empty is needed!
I’ve not been consciously mindful of water and its conservation this week either. I’ve turned on taps, flushed loos and taken baths and showers aware that the tank won’t be depleting which feels a treat but is, problematic.
It makes me realize that it is so easy in a house to use water mindlessly. All those mindless moments might mean there’s less watering our reservoirs next year if rainfall doesn’t replenish the low levels. That in turn could mean repeated restrictions for us to cruise waterways if we have another hot summer as is currently being predicted.
And we have missed our floating cruising lifestyle immensely these past weeks. We have missed the gentle pace, the constant soothing motion of which we weren’t aware until it wasn’t there, and the warmth.
Boaters know to expect the perennial questions “Is it warm or isn’t it cold …on the boat?” It is warm, whatever the weather outside.
Heating a well insulated smallish space well is much easier and economical than trying to heat a house. Previous generations knew this principle well, heating single rooms and doubling up with blankets, layers and hot water bottles when straying from the heat source! It made sense and still does, in financial terms too. It is more difficult when faced with cental heating rather than an open fire or multifuel stove. On the boat the Morso Squirrel stove is our heat source, our super efficient clothes drier in wet weather and a cooker too. We have been aware that we’ve had a break from our constant routine of lighting it and nurturing it day and night but at the same time we have missed its comforting, efficient radiance, that rewards our stewardship.
We realise too that we really missed being aware of the elements which we recognise we always are afloat. A storm in a house is intermittently experienced. Much of the time you have to consciously look outside to see if it’s raining for example. In a boat you always know whats happening in the world around you whatever you are doing. The windows are closer to your eye, being closer together than they are in a house. The metal roof resonates with the rhythm of the rain and the wind rocks us. The changing flows and tempos keep us unconsciously aware of the world outside our metal floating box. They are as a heartbeat to our lives.
We are aware we have also missed the people we encounter, the cheery greetings and welcome waves from strangers on boats and towpaths, the delightfully appreciative comments of walkers peering into the boat and talking of our home often totally oblivious that we are inside! Seeimg a boat seems to make people happy. We love the fact that we have a moveable metal hide that allows us to get close to wildlife and human life often unobserved.
I have also become increasingly appreciative these past weeks of the way our floating home allows us to live lagom and how inportant that is to how I feel. Lagom isbthe principle of moderation – not too much or too little but just enough. We have enough for comfort and necessity, for pleasure and a good life but not so much that we are overloaded and cluttered.
We have just enough, our lives are in balance and this time away has brought a welcome appreciation of how calming and fundamental this has become to living well. Our boat, I realise, has taught us how to really live, and I for one am so grateful for that lesson. It is a conscious realisation and recognition that enough is just that, enough, and that it keeps me happy and contented.
What more can we ask? Just to get back afloat – hopefully next week – fingers crossed.
Pickingupducks 