Contemplating the size of the world from the kitchen

Another week closer to departure, another Monday night dinner about to unfold. I have Stephanie Alexander's excellent olive bread rising in a snug corner of the laundry, and a pot of Jamie Oliver's basic tomato sauce, the one with the perfectly sized-up kick of chili, simmering on the stove. It's dark, and we're shutting windows to keep the warmth inside,  but Alex has not yet appeared from his workshop, aka the boat. Nor have the solar panels in the hallway moved far in a week. Claudia's getting grumpy about kicking her toes on the corner of the box each time she comes in the front door. But hey, the new toilet on the boat flushes at the touch of a button, and that's a triumph. Plus, Alex has at last ordered an AIS set-up from a man in Seattle who works out of home so he can do the school drop-offs. The magical shrinking properties of the internet are demonstrated, yet again. But then this planet of ours does seem ridiculously small when a16-year-old schoolgirl can sail around it while the rest of us are distracted by an unusually long hot summer.

             Tiptoe around the solar panels (a fun game for young adults coming home after a night at the pub)