So Greg has had this cute little fantasy floating about in his head for a few years of kicking back in a little laundromat, reading a dog-eared paperback on a quiet morning, feeling the freedom of not being tied to the drudgery of the common middle-class existence.
Turns out it wasn’t nearly as romantic as he had envisioned. We decided to give the local suds place a whirl this Sunday morning, just for kicks. That, and the boathouse on the dock is still slightly submerged from the weight of the snow (I swear it will end up floating down the river one of these days…). So off we went.
I don’t think he relaxed once during the entire process. The strange people wandering in and out had him on High Alert the entire time. I found the whole experience rather entertaining for the first 20 minutes, then rather dull and tedious the rest of the time. I think we’ll just brave the boathouse for now. Ideally, we’ll end up with a washer & dryer on board. They’d have to go in the lazarette, which requires climbing down a ladder in the aft deck. I’m slightly less than thrilled about that, but evidently knocking a hole in the bulkhead and putting a door to the laz is a fairly large (read: expensive and time-consuming – Tana knows this!) process. So Greg says that will have to wait a little while.
Meanwhile, back at the marina, there was a very strange man in an unlicensed and apparently sinking boat attempting to cut some logs loose from the remaining flood debris. He was racing about backwards & we were just waiting for him to swamp his whole boat. It seemed particularly sporty of him to attempt use of the chainsaw with the log right up against his boat. I’m no expert, but something tells me there’s a safety issue here…