Marooned

Although in a far more luxurious fashion than say, Robinson Crusoe. Because we are having the floors in our house refinished (and in some cases, carpet replaced with hardwood due to DOG DAMAGE), the past four days have been spent camping out on the boat. Camping is really a misnomer, as this is a 3 bed, 2 bath job with heat and a fridge and a tv and all that good stuff; still, it requires a certain amount of confined living, which, with two small girls, can be a bit much at times, particularly if one is trying to nap and the other is not.

I was initially told that the floors would be finished yesterday and we could go back today, but upon talking to the rep it turns out that they are one day behind the original estimate and today is the last coating---but come hell or high water, we ARE GOING BACK HOME TONIGHT. I don't care if I have to crawl along the baseboards, we are going home. Because at home, you see, there is no rat damage.

Ah yes, the rat. It would seem that while our poor dear boat was in the yard up in the Delta this summer for some work, a nasty little rodent decided to hop aboard, and had himself a fun trip back to the Bay Area. Gene didn't find out what was up until well after he brought the boat back and let me just say, Mr Rat had himself a FINE time ripping the hell out of upholstery, Tostitos bags, pieces of Bean's toys and books (this was really the most angrifying part for both parents---go figure) and of course, tasty hoses and such. You can use your imagination to establish what kind of hoses we are talking about. Thank goodness, Gene is incredibly handy and clever and able to fix most if not all the damage, but it put a serious dent in his weekend, not to mention his olfactory glands. The little bastard hit basically EVERY system onboard, and it's probably a miracle the boat didn't actually start sinking, but it is just the most infuriating thing, not to mention the grossest. As much as I have bitched about the boat in the past, she is really a member of the family, and it's hard enough that we will be saying goodbye to her in a few months (sold to a friend in the Seattle area---so at least she's going to a good home). To think that she had to endure a disgusting amount of damage from some pestilence of nature is almost too much. Gene said last night that he wished he could dig up the rat and kill him again, which I can completely understand.

However, we are still afloat, have survived the incredibly rainy weekend (which on the boat is rather cozy), and can go home tonight. And the rat is dead. Long live the rat.