With the Silverwoods still in residence, Dad's on a 3-line-whip to stick around, and not slope off to meet his fellow volunteers down at the Cambria, where the excitement is building ready for the refloat on Monday at 13:37 high tide. Dad has to cobble together a mission by subterfuge (Come on, Dad; you don't think they didn't see through it, do you?). He persuades Mr Silverwood that he should see the barge and can get below decks and likewise with the two elder girls. Em-J and J-M who might like to meet two English girls of similar age who volunteer on the project as painters etc at the weekend, Beth and Han.
He then needs little M to be sold the possibilities of a sweet shop in town, and the rest of the ladies the potential of the flea-market and furniture shops on Standard Quay and we have ourselves a mission. Dad gets to see the Volunteer force who are out mob-handed today and Mr S and the girls get their look-see. The next time they clap eyes on SB Cambria she will hopefully be complete and working, hi-tech classroom in the hold, live-able cabins, rigging an' all.
We dogs are a little off colour at present, maybe because of all the disruptions to our routine and possibly due to high potential for snacking off the leavings of small children, but today the sun shines (why couldn't it have been sunny for Howletts yesterday?) and Mum and Dad can throw open both doors of the French windows and humans can sit outside on the terrace and gravel garden, naturally closely superviving small humans near the pond. Everey dog and pup which we've ever had or has visited has been in there and we don't want to expand the story to include any small Silverwoods.
I am told that peace and tranquility breaks out tomorrow as the Silverwoods are packing up for an early sprint up the Motorway. We always love having them but there's something to e said for a return to normality.
Deefs
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