A flat month in a flat land

Since we came back from Portugal just under a month ago, life has seemed a bit flat. Yes, I know we live in the Netherlands, but that isn't quite what I meant. This flat has to do with our season induced mood, which is rather strange considering the excitement of the weather we've been having over the previous week or two. However, before Ciara came gusting in with all the force of an unwelcome party pooper, we'd already had enough wind and rain to warm us up for the big event. The clouds have been so unrelentingly grey I can barely recall whether there's been any silver in their linings, but I'm sure there must have been.

I know I spent an afternoon in the garden tidying up, and I also know that when we arrived back from Faro I spent a day cleaning the green off the Vereeniging. Given that I'd cleaned her before we left and that there wasn't any visible moss on her panels and hard wood rubbing rail then, I was shocked at the amount of growth that had accumulated in the 11 days we were away.

To address this unsightly mould (how is it that it's so grim looking, even on the green panels?), I climbed into my (also green) little boat with a scrubbing brush and some white vinegar and did the rounds. It struck me then and still does that it was amazing I could even contemplate doing this in January. Normally, the ice would have formed on the puddles in the bottom of the rowing boat and I'd be contemplating skates in place of my trusty wellies. Okay, I'll be honest, I wouldn't normally be contemplating doing anything outside at all. It should be much too cold for such industry.

That said, even without the storms, it's still been pretty miserable in that way that's so common to maritime climates. The Dutch call in waterkoud which I think is very expressive. After I've been away at the weekend, the barge is even worse inside than it is outside and everything feels damp and bone chillingly unpleasant. Even the cupboards throw out an icy blast when I open them. Who needs fridges when your clothes feel as if they've been in the freezer compartment? My solution is to light the stove, fill a hot water bottle, don my woolly boot slippers and huddle under a blanket until the warmth has penetrated the fabric of the interior and I can bear to pick up a coffee spoon without having my fingers frost bitten (Am I exaggerating? Boaters will know).

Then of course, Ciara came and did her best to cause as much damage and disruption as possible. I watched the news from Zeeland and my heart sank as I heard of a block of flats in Rotterdam that had its roof ripped off and numerous other reports of damage across the region. Would the Vereeniging survive? Luckily, she lies in a sheltered part of the harbour and a photo from a kind neighbour that evening reassured me that my old lady was still in one piece with nary a bucket adrift and all her tarpaulins in place. Ciara clearly didn't spot her nestling there. Now apparently Dennis is on his way to finish off what she started, but we're prepared for that too. I have a new neighbour, which is definitely good news in terms of keeping us from swaying around too much.

Safe in spite of Ciara

So that's it for the moment, allemaal. I hope I'll have something more interesting to post about next week...You never know...we might even get to go for a walk. Now wouldn't that be exciting?