There’s a reason pregnant women shouldn’t live alone. OK, there are probably many reasons, particularly when said female is carrying twins and lives on a boat.

But for tonight’s entry into the Top Ten list, we have (drum roll please…):

When you drop a can on your foot
and it gashes your toe wide open
and there’s blood everywhere,
guess what?

You can’t reach your foot to bandage it! I looked like a gigged frog as I flopped my ungainly body about the salon, attempting to find the best angle at which I might reach my poor wounded toe. I did, of course, manage eventually, cussing loudly and laughing at the whole episode at the same time.

Without getting blood on the carpet, even. I consider that a Win.

I’ve been working on the boat for the last two days, discovering the pleasure of using a palm sander rather than sanding by hand (yes, I should have discovered this years ago, but who knew that it would make SUCH a HUGE difference??). I’ve been washing KJ from top to bottom now that the car bridge is gone and the Daily Battle Against Grime is eased. Just a quiet afternoon.

And then it happened…Two tugs went up the river, tied off to each other.

And then a little while later…they came back. Hauling a really big barge.

And I got so excited, you’d have thought I’d never seen a boat on the water before. Or that maybe I rode the short bus in school. A buddy of mine observed over the phone that I was a tremendous dork. But conceded that it was an integral part of my charm.

I figure you gotta get excited about the Little Stuff, because there just isn’t enough Big Stuff to make every single day exciting. Did I mention that the tug driver and I waved to each other? That was *so* cool…

So this is part of the pipe that was in the exhaust system for my beloved Hurricane heater. Clearly, a problem. The pipe and insulation had both sort of crumbled into the opening, blocking any flow at all. While the guys were at it, I had them just cut this part of the pipe out, as it added 2 completely unnecessary 90 degree turns (and as Floyd says “Nine 90 degree turns make a plug”). Well, we had five in the system, which strikes me as extra ridiculous. This photo is the two turns we’ve now eliminated.

Unfortunately, I’m still getting the “Flame Out” fault, so I think Jeff’s next move is to cut into the 90s in the engine room to see if they’re clogged. At the same time we’ll probably add a cleanout, because if we’ve got the setup we currently have, it may as well be serviceable. ****LATER. That’s all done. The exhaust is clean and the d*mn thing still won’t run. Back to the engine room.

This was the last I saw of KJ’s old moorage, as we moved her up the river to a new spot where she can get out without a call 4 hours ahead to the railroad bridge, without crossing the flats (which, even at high tide, only left her 1-2′ under the keel ~ I whiteknuckled it every time), and hopefully, where access will make it easier to sell her.

Yes, I’ve put my love on the market, half-hoping I don’t get a buyer, but knowing that it’s best if I do. She’s just too much for me to take care of without Greg, mostly financially. I’m tossing around plans for the future, but don’t know for certain what I’ll do yet. Maybe a trade, downsizing to a smaller boat? I don’t know. I do like the new moorage as well, so remaining a liveaboard is a tempting option. Only time will tell right now.

Here are a few of the new neighbors. There’s still a lot to watch over here; the tugs go in and out frequently. There are harbor seals even this far up the river (I’m in mostly fresh water now), so that made me happy.

Heater updates to follow. At least we have a diagnosis now…but it’s a larger issue than I would have liked.

Meantime, my darling mechanic (who has taken it as a personal mission to take care of me ~ no complaints here) hooked up the propane heater to a larger tank today and I am reasonably comfortable and warm.