Tuesday, December 09, 2014

Awaking to a soft rain on Buster's roof and canvas, I lay for a moment believing it must be early as it is still dark, but a glance at my watch tells me that it has been light for an hour. I can here the rhythm of Wag's quiet breathing as he sleeps out of sight on the passenger seat. I stir and his head appears, ears erect and his tail wagging above the seat back. Seeing that I'm awake he jumps into the back of the camper and up on to the cushion, a smooch and a dance, he has needs. 

Unzipping the sleeping bag, I dread throwing it back and exposing myself to the cold air. I grab a heavy sweater and my rain jacket and pull them on over the flannel nightgown. Barely waiting for the door to open Wags is off to find the right bush and then a spot to defecate. His business finished he returns to the camper for breakfast, while I grab a baggie to pick up after my charge.

To the west there is a distinct line of clouds and then clear skies, below the sea froths angrily. The weather forecast is for clearing through the morning and mostly sunny in the afternoon and the surf forecast is for the morning stiff sea breeze to turn and be off-shore in the afternoon, smoothing the swells and promising 2m waves with 15 second intervals. We can only hope.

For now there is nothing to do but have breakfast. After firing up the cabin heater, I start the water for coffee and begin to rummage through the fridge and cabinet for something to eat, when Linda taps on the window holding croissants. I let her in. The croissants were warm, she had made them this morning, her caravan having an oven. I found the preserves in the fridge and we talked, she needed to talk.

Kim

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