Strangely, would you believe my days on the go differ greatly from my days tethered in a single area? Yes, so, talking about stationary days...
I find that no two days are the same, and I pretty much get my ass in gear the moment I get out of bed. However, I'm relieved that my circadian rhythm is now consistent, except for the last two days, when the clock sprang ahead and threw me off.
But I enjoy dancing to my beat, so I'll give myself a few days to adjust to the mornings that seem to fly by, and I surely appreciate the longer evenings.
I love mornings, and I always say yes to a hearty breakfast. I like to sit and eat mindfully without distractions, especially when I have a plate full of some of my favourite foods:
My breakfast is important because it helps to keep my sugar and energy levels stable.
Slow living can seem like an oxymoron sometimes because I need to run around to get simple tasks done. Also, chores seem never-ending, but in a tiny space like this, it's necessary to avoid clutter and mess. Hence the reason why I have throws, which are easier to clean than upholstery, in case of soils and spillages.
Sitting by the fire is cosy and somewhat addictive, but fingers crossed, with brighter days on the horizon, we'll need the fire lit in the evenings only, for just a few more weeks.
It's a different vibe on the boat in the summertime compared to winter. I love sunshine and fresh air, so that's the winner for me, except the main annoyance and the constant battle I have with keeping flies out, or worse, redirecting them out when they get in. But that's minor.
Currently, I spend half the week alone on the boat, hence why I'm stationed at one particular location for an extended period.
This arrangement needs careful planning, such as finding a safe spot on the network that's not too remote for me to be alone, and also an area that's relatively close to a railway station for hubby to travel back and forth easily.
Most times, I'm self-sufficient on the boat, but now and then our planning falls a little short, especially when we have unexpected freezing days around the Spring solstice. You know, and I run out of coal for my fire.
Luckily, I am now in the Foxton Locks area, which is convenient. So, I messaged our good friend, saying, "#FreezingTemperaturesInFoxton, could you please take me three bags of coal?"
— "Hahaha! Jamaican blood! I'm coming," he responded.
Being a water gypsy Life on the canals in Britain is fascinating and brings a level of excitement to a nomadic lifestyle. It's like I'm living in so many different towns over short periods, and I confidently navigate my way around, knowing that sooner than later, I'll be back. It's eye-opening to discover the attitudes of the friendlier and more progressive thinking people, too.
It's all good to be able to pop to a shop, but when the boat is stationary, I need to keep close tabs on my water supply, since I only have a 500-litre tank in the bow of my boat.
Hubby found a solution to that, though. With this wheelbarrow, I'm able to fill up this 25-litre bottle to top up the tank, and this smaller 5-litre bottle of drinking water that's sufficient till we are on the move when he returns.
Wheelbarrowing 30 litres of water made me understand the saying that "you never know the value of water until you have to carry it."
However, looking at the bright side, this could be the solution to the strength training that's missing from my daily routine, and it will be more pleasant doing this in the coming warmer months.
Implementing these small solutions to enhance my lifestyle, regardless of what it throws at us, is what makes me tick. Still, I couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of carrying water in Britain, considering that I'm from a third-world country and have lived in other underdeveloped countries—yet here I am, carrying water for the first time, here in the UK. This makes me appreciate the best of both worlds.
Well, I enjoyed sharing my typical day when stationed on the canals.
Does your daily routine look similar?
