The sighs and lows of a tidal harbour

This time last month, I was in a state of bemused dismay as to where September had gone. Now I'm feeling much the same about October, although I haven't lost it quite so completely.

It's been a busy month boat wise. Koos and I have been doing jobs on the Hennie H at weekends, we took the Vereeniging out for a revival run, and I've been working on the her during the week between teaching and sleeping. You'll notice the absence of green in one of the side panels below. That's because I'm taking them out one by one and replacing them with new panels. I've done three on each side now, although number 3 on this side is awaiting re-fitting. But aside from my seasonal disinclination (see last week's moan), the weather hasn't been helping and it's caused me some unnecessary time messing about in the little boat rescuing ropes that have gone astray; hence the sighs. Let me explain:

The pink section is where I've removed a panel for replacement.
Note small boat: the vehicle of my venturing

When I moved from being neighbours with the clipper in the pic below to my current neighbour above, I also had to move a few ropes. You'll notice in the picture below that there's a bollard set into the wall. Well I needed to transfer my front rope from there to the bollard you can just see on the quay in the top right corner.

And then I had to place another one on the bollard set in the wall to the right of the Vereeniging (see further below). Last week, then, I climbed into my little dinghy and paddled over to lift off and replace said ropes. It was all good fun and I enjoyed messing around in the water despite the rain and cold. For once I felt inclined. Wrapped up in a warm coat and feet tucked into my tartan wellies, I was ready for an adventure of Wind in the Willows proportions and while it wasn't quite in the scale of Rat and Mole's escapades, it made me feel good scooting about between the barges.

My favourite tartan wellies

But this last Tuesday, when I was teaching, we had a phenomenal storm. The wind howled, the rain thundered down and I won't even go into how long it took me to get home after work.

Anyway, along with the deluge, the tide rose much higher than normal and my carefully laid wall-side rope floated off its bollard. Meanwhile, the wind played havoc with everything else and my other ropes got stretched to the point that when I emerged in the morning, the loopplank was teetering on the edge of the quay and I needed to do quite a rescue job. So back in my little boat I climbed to spuddle up to the bows, fish my errant rope out of the water and pull it back to the wall.

You can see the normal high tide mark on the bricks, but this time it was so high I couldn't even see the bollard, so it was well above its normal mark. This photo was taken when the tide was on its way down. When I performed my scoop up job, however, I could barely reach the bollard, which goes to show what an up and down world we live in during the October storms. I made sure I put a double loop in my rope and pulled it tight, so I'm hoping that, together with the heavy cable that's lying across it, this will prevent it from floating off again. If not, I'll have to put a weight on it to keep it down.

All this takes time, though, and while I enjoy it, I'm aware there are other jobs that need my attention...such as the new pin prick of light I can see through a place in the back cabin (the roef) where I should only be seeing solid steel...oh dear. I keep reminding myself she is 120 years old; these things will happen.

Anyway, next week I hope I'll have some further progress to report, or at least another new panel :)
Have a great weekend allemaal and here’s a fitting song to go with this post. I’ve loved this since I first heard it as a child.

Rotterdam's lively library: a lesson in how to keep libraries alive!

As you might expect (me being bookish and all) I am a member of Rotterdam's central library. There are many branch libraries in the city, but the main branch is my local simply because my barge lies just a couple of hundred metres from its entrance. But you know what? even if I didn't like reading, I would go to the library just to be there. It is possibly the most invigorating place in the whole city, and I mean that.

Founded in 1604,  Rotterdam Biblioteek is a community hub like no other. According to Wikipedia, it's one of the largest libraries in the country and it's the most visited cultural institution in Rotterdam boasting around 2.5 million visitors every year. That's really something, isn't it? But it doesn't surprise me at all.

Courtesy of the library's website

This last week, I had a moment when it really struck me what a special place it is.

You see, far from being a quiet and restful, Rotterdam library is a lively, busy, noisy and intensely active place. Not what you'd expect, is it? It's also quite huge, so if you really want to find a peaceful corner to pore over books or do some research, you have to make your way up to the top floors (there are seven) and find a desk or table where all is still and hushed. But even there, it's normally pretty packed with students and quite difficult to find space. It's a favourite place for the young and learned to go and work, so empty spots are at a premium.

This aside, there are plenty of other reasons to visit the library and whenever I go through its revolving door, I feel an energy that you wouldn't normally expect from a place full of books.

On the ground floor, apart from a busy information desk, there's always an exhibition of some kind on display. Last week, it was on photos from Aruba and Kazakhstan. There was also a big screen where the olympic skating was being shown and benches were arranged for anyone who wanted to sit and watch. There were plenty of takers.

On a more permanent basis, there is a huge walk through chess game, also with benches around it. This is where you can usually find a number of elderly gents parked while they watch the game in progress. It's played with giant chess pieces that are shuffled across the floor from square to square. The 'board' is made up of black and white floor tiles and it's always in use. Always, yes. Next to it, there's a café, which is where I often meet prospective students. The whole ground floor has such a vibrancy about it it's just a lovely place to be.

Upstairs, each level has a different focus: the first is devoted to media and information. There are large, lecturn-shaped tables with reading lamps where anyone can go and read the newspapers available. Last week, I was just one of a number of – shall we say – mature ladies and gents occupying these spots. Then there are the books but of course these are categorised and spread over the various floors, along with other media such as music, film and other audio. As an information centre, it really has no equal.

Right at the top of the building, there are small rooms that you can hire as a study space and even sound proofed rooms with pianos for musicians who want a private place to practice. There are also meeting rooms for hire for small groups. If you're a library member, meaning that you've paid a subscription, the individual rooms are free, but I should say anyone can use the library, spend time in it, browse through the books and read there. No one is at the door to check you have paid. It's just that if you want to borrow books, or use the internet or other facilities, a subscription is needed. I'm pretty sure there are plenty of visitors who only go there to enjoy the community feeling without feeling obliged to fork out for membership.

Rotterdam has shown how important a library is to the community and ours is such an example. I absolutely love it and often spend time there between lessons, it's such a stimulating place to be. The council have managed to make sure it's still an appealing place to go and it is extremely well run. I can definitely recommend it as a place to visit too. The building is fascinating quite apart from anything else, with its bright, yellow exterior pipe work. It's just one of those off the wall designs for which this city is so well known.

The library to the left of the Pencil building from the Markthal

The library from the Markthal

Well that's it for me this week. Have a good weekend allemaal and I'd love to know if you have a special library. Do you think you'd like to have one that's as busy as ours, for example? What makes a library special for you?

Too cold for faring

Hasn't it suddenly got cold? In just these last few days, the temperatures have dropped and we've realised for the first time that it really isn't summer anymore. I'd got used to being outside in just a tee-shirt, albeit a long-sleeved one. I'm such a summer lover, it's hit me quite hard and I'm struggling to get up the energy to do anything constructive.

I don't have a neighour at the moment, which is rather nice
for my view both on board and on the quay

So what's my response to that? Well, being pig-headed (or should I say bull-headed being a Taurean?), I rebel against my own lethargy and am forcing myself to go for walks every day when I'd really rather hibernate in my dressing gown. I'm also getting off the tram a stop earlier on the way to work to make sure I have more fresh air (unless it's raining; even I'm not that rebellious). Then to be able to give myself a pat on the back, I spent some time after work on Tuesday painting my back cabin roof; not that this turned out to be a good idea. It froze over night and when I looked at my new paintwork the next day, the frost had already robbed it of any gleam. Murphy was having fun again, so I'll have to do it again.

Another thing I've managed to do is move on a little further with the interior of said back cabin. It's no warmer in there either, but at least it's out of the wind. I'm hoping I'll be able to show off its new floor soon. Koos has been busy with the engine, although still no joy as yet. However, he has put one of those squishy gas things on the opening hatch, and that makes it a dream to open and close. I am really so grateful as with my bad shoulder it's been a painful job to open it.

In other news, over the last few weekends we've have been to Ghent twice; once to an art gallery where a contact of Koos' had some paintings in an exhibition, and again yesterday, but that was just to go to Ikea. I love Ghent, so any excuse to go there is fine with me.

Two paintings by Randell Sarneel with Koos doing his
own exhibiting between them.

All the artists involved in the exhibition and Koos

We've also been to the theatre, which is something I always want to do more but never manage to get round to. This occasion had an extra incentive because my daughter had a role in the performance. It was called Duets and was a wonderfully witty series of four short plays involving two people in each segment (hence the title) by Peter Quilter. It was terrific and beautifully performed by all. Very funny and well staged too. I hope they will do more as I need that kind of push to go and I really enjoy it.

The cast and single all-in-one crew member of Duets

Then this last Friday, we went to Zierikzee. I've been before and just felt like going again on our way down to Zeeland. It's a really lovely, traditional Dutch town, and it lies on the shores of the Oosterschelde, the tidal estuary behind the great Delta project dam walls. Most of the time the sluices are left open, so the tide comes in and out normally. I was surprised at how much of a drop there is at low tide. It's much more than in our Oude Haven and is probably close to four metres. Zierikzee is on my list of top towns in the Netherlands and is a place I wouldn't mind living.

The tidal harbour at Zierikzee

Zierikzee's town gate and tower

The history of the harbour telling visitors
how the town got its name. The tidal creek was
called the Ee and it was named after a local
leader by the name of Zierik, hence Zierik's Ee
of Zierikzee as it is now.

And a photo of what it used to look like at the end of
the 17th century

What are you all doing to keep the blood circulating in these cold days? Or maybe hot days in some cases! I'd be interested to hear.

In any event, and whatever the case, have a good week allemaal!

The Oude Haven: help save our slipway!

You may remember that a few weeks ago I had the Vereeniging on the slipway and I mentioned that it might be closing for good.

The Vereeniging on three of the five cars or trolleys 

Well, we have had a very welcome reprieve! Great news has just been circulated that a foundation has been established for the tijdelijk (temporary or short term) management of the yard and slipway (helling), and that it will continue for at least 18 months. If it goes well, it might end up being a permanent arrangement. I am of course thrilled to hear this, but I can see it puts a certain pressure on the foundation's management to make sure the slipway is continuously occupied and that means they need bookings. An empty helling is not going to keep it going and I frown whenever I see there is nothing sitting there.

So on the basis that every little counts, here's my promotional blurb for our wonderful harbour.

I can personally confirm I've used the yard every two years since I've been in the Oude Haven and I have been forever grateful for the care and cooperation I've been shown as a customer. Naturally, it makes a difference that I live there and I know most of the people involved, but I think I can speak for other non-residents too when I say that help is always at hand and if you need the skills of a good welder, carpenter or even riveter, there is always someone there to step in, even in emergencies.

Each car can carry 20 tonnes

The only restrictions are that 1) those using it have to have a vessel with a hull of at least fifty years old. It is after all a 'historic harbour', so this is the basic criterion. 2) It is also important to have a flat or at least round  bottomed boat rather than one with a deep keel because of the flat 'cars' on which the boats sit, and 3) the length and weight of the barge are limited to 40 metres and 100 tonnes. Each of the cars can carry 20 tons, so that is also a consideration. Apart from these conditions, there is nothing to put you off. The rates are very reasonable, and you can do all or most of the work yourself to keep costs down, depending on your skills. However, if you prefer to have others do everything, that is also your choice and there are no staff employed that you are obliged to use. You can bring in your own. Bookings are normally for a week, but you can ask for two, or more if you wish although since all the work is done while sitting on the slipway, short term bookings are probably preferred. Two smaller boats can, however, share the helling. Lastly, there is a shower and toilet in the yard in the event you cannot use your own (or don't have one!).

Since I'm on a promotional run here, I can also say the Oude Haven is a wonderful location. It is one of the key social centres of Rotterdam and is surrounded by cafés and good restaurants. The centre of the city is a short walk away and supermarkets are close by too. What more could you possibly want at the end of a hard day of being up close and personal with a broad-beamed bottom?

The Oude Haven at night (photo by Koos Fernhout)

Right, here's the other important bit. Who do you contact? Not me, I regret to say. No, there are four guys running the foundation: Nico Hoogstad, Joram Lehmann, Chris van der Meulen and Paulus van der Jagt. You can write to any or all of them at this email address, which is the one for enquiries:- post@koningspoort.nl

 A special view of the Oude Haven

My plea to all barge, tug and other owners of old boats is to give a thought to the Oude Haven if you are in France, Belgium or the Netherlands and are looking for a lift out. The more it is used, the better the prospects are for us all that it will be maintained. Given that it is also one of Rotterdam's foremost visitor attractions, it would be very sad indeed if it were closed and replaced by tower block apartments.

Winter preparations

It's that time of year when we start preparing for winter on board the Vereeniging, and I greet it with something of a wistful sigh.
  

A baby coot

It's time to make sure the rowing boat is completely empty and the seats and floorboards are stacked so they don't sit in pools of water and rot. We haven't used it much this year because we had our coot squatters in it for so much of the time.  Here is a link to a post I wrote about them before. They set up quite a production line and Mama Coot continued to produce eggs to sit on throughout the summer, which rather effectively prevented much 'spuddling'; no one wanted to risk Papa Coot's ire and I can't say I blamed them.

Spuddling supreme...pulling a mast through the harbour

It's also time to put the little electric outboard motor away too and make sure the battery is regularly charged and in a dry place. I have to say the motor hasn't been available much either this year as there was a problem with the wiring, but that's been fixed now. Our brilliant neighbour, Bas the man of electrical means, has untangled the mess, so it will at least be ready for next year.

As for all the painting jobs I haven't done, well, there's still the odd warm day when some work might be possible, but I fear they will mostly get left until next year now.

And lastly, it's time to light my oil stove. The weather is turning cold and wet, so I must look around for things to do inside. Ah, now that has promise!

Now the welding is done in my back cabin, I want to put vlakvet (grease) on the hull below the floor and get the rest of the new floor down. To my dismay, when I was removing panels for fire watching when we were on the helling a couple of weeks ago, I found the woodworm had returned (or perhaps they had never really gone away - see this post), so that needs to undergo treatment again. At least it's not the floor this time, but the framework to the cupboards has been attacked...ho hum.

I have sprayed (again) and have another fumigator on order, but I need to work in there, so I'll avoid anymore pesticides until I'm satisfied with the floor. I really don't like that stuff at all. Still, I've read that woodworm aren't as active in the winter; I hope that's true. I've also read that if you cover the worms' bore holes with masking tape in the winter, you can see if they are still busy in the spring as the beetles will break through the holes to get out. I'll be using a lot of masking tape, I think! In addition, they (the experts on the internet) recommend those sticky strip fly traps. Apparently, they are also quite good for getting rid of woodworm beetles; they will be going up in the spring too. I really hope I can get rid of the evil worms this time. So far, in terms of their ability to survive my attempts at obliteration, it's woodworm 2, me 0.

Another thing I want to do is build a partition in my living space between the bed and the lounge area. I have an idea of how I want to do it that will not make it too dark there, but I hope it won't be too difficult. I'll keep that simmering for a bit.

And then the last job is to get the engine going again. It's been a long story, hasn't it? Koos is working on solving the mystery of why it refuses to run now, but if (or what if) what he has in mind still doesn't work, I'll have to call an expert in (and that could be a euronormous job). Keep fingers, toes and thumbs crossed everyone!

Well that's all my Vereeniging jobs, so what about the Hennie H? Perhaps I'll tell you about that next week. Have a good one allemaal!

Back in my berth again

Well that was a week and a half. As I mentioned in my last post, the man with the hammer came on Tuesday and showed almost unhealthy enthusiasm for finding fault with my 120 year old bottom. Well, find it he did: one thin area in front of the propellor through which he made a small hole, and a one and a half metre strip just above where some of the plates are riveted together. I shouldn't complain though. He was just doing his job and probably saved me a heap of trouble later on. But as I also said last time, I hadn't booked anyone to do the welding for me.

Tim's patch

True to his word, though, our lovely neighbour, Tim, came and welded a small emergency patch over the hole just before he set off on his own journey north to fetch a mast for his ship. We watched him leaving and I don't think I've ever seen his smile so wide; it was the first time he'd been away on his beautiful barge so it was quite something to see it moving.

A smiling Tim setting off on his own barge

That same morning, however, another wonderful neighbour, who is actually retired, came to offer his services. He was, bless him, concerned I wouldn't get another chance as the yard might be closing for good next year, so as a special favour, he collected up some odd pieces of steel and knitted them together to patch the thinning skin of my ageing Vereeniging.

The strip above the plate joints

It took three days of hard work, and three days when I had to spend much of my time crouched in the back cabin with the floor up and the cupboards dismantled watching for possible fires. My only company was a washing up liquid bottle full of water ready to squirt on any flames and a bunch of damp cloths to wrap over the old wooden framework of the cupboards, some of which were unnervingly close to the iron plates being welded. Rather wet companions, don't you think?

My properly patched up behind before painting

My only entertainment was posting cryptic messages on Twitter, but it did occur to me I could write the experience into a book about tips and tricks for restoring an old Dutch barge. The inimitable Roger Distill sowed the seeds with his own book 'Hints and Tips for Life with Your Feet Under Water (see the link here) as he'd already suggested I should do one for living on European waters.

Once the welding was over, it was down to painting again, so back came the rollers and black tar substitute. Koos and I rolled and brushed for all we were were worth until yesterday morning when the week was over and we slid back into the water again. After a quick check to make sure there were no nasty surprises after the welding and bashing, one of our other special neighbours towed us back to my berth. Next projects? Getting the engine going...again, sorting out the rust under the rubbing rail...again, and re-building the back cabin...again.

What was that they say here in the Netherlands? Koop een boot, werk je dood! (or loosely translated: buy a boat, work yourself to death)

Have a good week allemaal!

High and dry again

Just a quickie this time as otherwise I won't get to post at all. It's that time again. The man with the hammer has been and given his verdict on the state of my bottom, or rather, the Vereeniging's. I can't believe that it's already five years since the last time, and unfortunately, those five years have taken their toll. My lovely old lady needs a few sticking plasters on her rear end. Luckily only one of these is urgent as I don't have the time or the welder to do anymore.

I guess I was hoping in vain for a clear bill of health and I took the risk of not calling my welding friends beforehand. There's always an uncertainty with these inspections. You never know what you need until after the hammer has fallen. If you reserve a welder in advance, the chances are that you won't need him; if you don't, then you do (if you get my drift). Well I didn't and I should have, but never mind; my wonderful neighbour, Tim, who helped us last time, is going to save my bacon again. Sadly, he has limited availability, so we are just doing the urgent patch for the moment. I'll definitely reserve him next spring though...as long as he's still around...and there lies another risk! Will he or won't he? When my helpers live on boats too, there's always the possibility that they'll fare away. But I won't worry about that for now! We have enough on our plates for the moment.

Wish us luck, my old girl and me. We have to be finished by Sunday so we need all the dry weather and good painting conditions we can get!

The busy life of coots

I have a fascination for water birds. I love watching the swans, ducks and coots in the harbour as they go about their busy lives. They live in a community like us only in their own parallel world and the moment I stop to just watch and stare (a bit like the watery version of smelling the roses) I become transfixed by their activities. Watching the mums teaching their chicks to feed; seeing group conflicts being resolved; laughing as they dash across the harbour after some titbit; being amazed by their swift and graceful diving skills when they disappear below the surface after a submarinated snack.

A swan family on the Canal de L'Escaut in France

At the moment, I have a coot couple as tenants on my rowing boat - or maybe I should say squatters as they didn't ask if they could occupy my property, they just moved on, built a nest and proceeded to multiply. But I love them and find them a constant source of entertainment when I'm cleaning on board.

They're pretty smart, actually. The nest is positioned in the corner at the stern of the boat, which happens to sit under the stern of my barge. They've clearly chosen this spot as it's nicely protected. When it rains, they are under cover and when it's very hot, they have some shade. The nest itself is a masterpiece of recycling, compiled as it is of bits of plastic, old packets and twigs to keep it all together.  Mr Coot spends days selecting suitable decor to bring back to his wife, often to have her reject his offerings as unsatisfactory or not in keeping with her design plan.

The Vereeniging's stern; my rowing boat's stern sits under it

The only problem arising from all this is that Ma and Pa Coot have become singularly (or maybe doubly, seeing as there are two of them) attached to their home and woe betide anyone who comes near. Mostly, it's only me, and I'm sure their possessiveness is just as much about protecting their developing family as it is about defending their nest.

The thing is I have no intention of disturbing them. It is of course very inconvenient as I can't use the boat until they've finished with it; neither can I empty it of rain water. Fortunately, it hasn't rained much in recent weeks, so it's not been a major issue yet, but I've been missing out on some fun spuddling, which has made me sigh once or twice. But despite my good intentions, Mr Coot is determined I am evil incarnate, an intruder of ill-intent, and he treats me accordingly.

Whenever I am outside, cleaning the exterior, he charges over from wherever he's been in the habour, his wings beating an angry tattoo on the water. He is all aggression, mean eyed and menacing; ready to attack my evil broom as I dip it into the water. It's too funny. He follows me around the barge and pecks at the brush fiercely when I lower it for a rinse. As for my water bucket, that is an obscenity up with which he will not put. I'm just glad I don't need to get down into the water too. I think I'd be mincemeat if I tried.

Mrs Coot is more docile, thank heavens. When she is taking a break from her nursing duties, she also follows me around, but as long as I stay away from her nest, she just observes me with mild interest. I'm sorry I will miss the babies when we go faring, but I'm sure there will be plenty of birdlife to observe along the way. Ducks, coots and water birds are part of life on rivers and canals and I can rest safe in the assumption they will be living equally fascinating lives wherever we go. I'd love to know if they quack with a different accent, though! Have a good week everyone!

Baby coot, nothing more cute!

Still fair for faring

The weather is definitely becoming more autumnal now and the trees are turning such a beautiful colour, but despite a few days of very heavy rain and chill winds, we are still having some lovely sunny days. So much so that we have had yet another quick spuddle out on the canal this weekend.

But before I get to that, I wanted to add some photos here of the very special sailing barge event that we went to last Sunday the day after I wrote my last post. I'd read that the Bietentocht (as it is called here) was starting with its traditional 'warm-up' event at the town of Goes, not that far away from where we escape to at weekends. Bietentocht means Beet tour and it is just that: a tour of sugar beet loaded barges that sail from one town to another in Zeeland over a period of four days. The boats are all traditional Dutch sailing barges and the event begins when they are towed by magnificent draft horses from the lock (sas) at Goesesas to the harbour in the centre of Goes itself. The horses used for this event were Belgians, apparently. They were not quite as tall as some of the English draft horses I have seen, but still noble and beautiful.

Koos and I agreed we would like to go and see the event, so we jumped on his motor scooter and sped 50km along the highway to arrive at the start just as they were beginning to match horses to barges. In the sunshine, at the water's edge with the bright autumn light, it was a truly captivating scene, and I think the photos speak for themselves:

Horses taking up the slack lines

And then pulling the barges

Without too much effort at all - one gentle
nudge was all it took

In their Sunday best

Bargees in traditional costume

And glorious paintwork

More dressed up gee gees

Barges in the lock waiting to be released

Barges waiting to enter the lock from the
estuary

Well of course, we had to wait and see them arrive in Goes, and that was also a terrific sight. The barges were literally crammed into the harbour.

Well, having seen this and after being so inspired by it all, I decided I wanted to see the end of the tour when it reached the small town of Willemstad, which is in Zuid Holland on the south side of the Hollandsch Diep. I knew they would arrive on Thursday, so after work, I met my daughter and her family and we set off to see the barges coming in. What a difference! In contrast to the previous Sunday, it was pouring with rain, and we had to make for the safety of a café, but not before I managed to snap a few pics of the boats crowding into this small harbour.

Reversing in to the harbour was the only way

Clippers, possibly the most beautiful and elegant of the
Dutch barges

Barges like sardines in a can

Wonderful shapes and colours

The clouds started to clear just as we left

But that wasn't entirely the end of the barging week. We had a couple of days of excessively high water in Rotterdam, which is always quite exciting. Would the water wash over the side of the harbour this time? It never has and didn't this week either, but it did lap over the steps where the café puts its tables, and many's the time they have had to evacuate that part in the past.

Water lapping over the top steps of the café opposite

Getting close to the top, but not quite there.
We can relax...

Back in Zeeland again, the sun peeked through the clouds yesterday and the air was balmy and sweet. We were supposed to be cleaning the Hennie Ha, but the pull of the open water was too strong. It was still fair enough for faring! So we cast of the ropes and took to the canal. It also happened that friends were visiting in their camper van on the other side of the bridge, so we picked them up and took them for a spuddle too. It was unexpectedly lovely and a real treat. We made it back just before the heavens opened again.

Today has been a bright, clear and sunny too, but much colder and I really feel that autumn is upon us. It's dark in the mornings until eight now, which makes hauling myself out of bed even more challenging than usual. In another week, the clocks will change, which will give my body clock time to catch up a bit; the leaves will be falling hard and faring will be fully finished (or maybe not if we are brave). But what wonderful trips we've had this year to feed my soul through the winter....and as I still have a book about it to write, I can live it all over again. Aren't I the lucky one?