‘Are you okay?’
‘No, not really. Would you mind coming in and helping me cut this tape off, please? I think I’m stuck.’
I manage to limp my way to the kitchen drawer where I keep the scissors, and pass them to Abe as I plonk myself down on the old chair. He proceeds to patiently cut off my home-made kneepads.
‘Never again. I don’t know what I was thinking.’
‘Well, it’s just as well I came over to give you these. I was off to work but wanted to see if you needed them before I went. I guess you did,’ he says, handing me a pair of proper kneepads.
‘Thank you. You’re amazing. And my knees thank you very much…’
‘No problem. It’s looking so much better in here already.’
‘I’m glad you think so. I guess I’m lucky that Erik is such a great carpenter. He’s made a huge difference.’
‘Well, that and what you’ve done so far. You’ve done a lot of the work, too. You should be proud of it.’
‘Thank you. I guess you can buy anything, but putting the work in yourself feels so much more worthwhile.’ He doesn’t need to know about all the mishaps I have had.
‘For sure, and talking of hard work, I’d better get over to the cafe. Good luck with the rest of the varnishing.’
‘Thanks again for the kneepads, and good luck at work!’
Good luck at work?Shouldn’t I have said,have a nice day, or something else?
As Abe heads off into the distance, I return to finishing the floor with the help of his kneepads. The sooner this boat is sorted, the sooner I can get out and explore the wonderful sights of Amsterdam and maybe meet more new people. If everyone is as lovely as Abe and Beatrix, then I can’t wait to make new friends.
By mid-afternoon, I have finished the varnishing and stand back to look at my work. I am delighted with the result. It almost looks like new in here. The damp odour has been replaced by the fresher smells of polish and varnish. My final job of the day is to bang some nails into the wall of the living area and hang the painting of Amsterdam that I picked up at the flea market. I only need my Persian rug to be delivered once the floors are dry and the interior decorating will be complete, which will then leave the job of the outside renovations – but one step at a time. In the meantime, I will be hobbling around on tiptoes trying to avoid walking on the wet patches of varnish, which feels a bit like playing hopscotch as I pray I don’t lose my balance.
As I contemplate going outside to get a quick snack, I see that Debbie has messaged me. I had let Hannah and Debbie know that I was safely in Amsterdam when I arrived but, apart from that, I haven’t spoken much to either of them since I’ve been so busy.
How’s it going there? Send pics of the work you’ve done. I can’t waitto see it. I bet it’s gorgeous. Nigel is driving me up the wall here andI’ve never been so jealous. I know I’ve said it before, but I reallywish I could flit off to live on a houseboat.
It might sound idyllic but I’m not sure Debbie would have enjoyed all the grafting and stress there has been. I also haven’t told her about the woodworm incident. Nobody sees that side of things, and it’s still very cold in here. It’s only the hard graft that is keeping me warm.
You know you’re welcome anytime. Whenever you want to escape, comeover and stay.
I might take you up on that. I need a break. If Nigel moans about usnot having a new lawnmower once more then I might not be responsible formy actions!
I think of my life back home and the competition between the neighbours to have the best garden, the best cars and the newest kitchen on the street. No wonder I was getting caught up in a retail frenzy there. As far as I’ve seen, it seems much more relaxed here, and nobody cares what anyone owns. Walking around that flea market with people buying gorgeous pre-loved vintage clothes made me realise that having the latest of everything is a waste of time. It’s much better to have quirky, interesting pieces rather than the same as everyone else.
As I lock up the houseboat to venture out for lunch, I think of Abe. He’s quirky. He’s not your Mr Darcy type at all, but I think that is what makes him so attractive. Beatrix is a lucky lady. I would much prefer someone laid back and cool with a greying ponytail than a dashing man in a suit who could potentially tread on anyone to get what he wants. I couldn’t imagine being with a snobby, stuck-up man who irons his socks or his underpants and wants everything perfect. Give me stubble and a dirty laugh any day!
Like men, I like my food casual and so I search for a place that sells fast food through a hole in the wall. I love the food from the automatiek that is almost like a vending machine with hot food; it’s so different. Where else can you open a sliding window and remove a warm ham and cheese croquette for two euros? I always wonder what goes on behind the sliding window. There are no staff around, and it is as if there is some robot behind the sliding window making fresh croquettes and burgers. I wonder why anyone needs fancy food when you can munch on one of these mouthwatering masterpieces!
Heading back home with a full tummy, I realise how happy I am starting to feel here. The loneliness I felt back home has been replaced by a sense of satisfaction. For the first time in years, I feel content with myself and am not afraid of the future and what it may or may not bring.
I arrive home to the houseboat to see a delivery man knocking at the door. He has my huge nomad rug all wrapped up in plastic.
‘So sorry, I didn’t realise you were delivering today,’ I say, as I rush up to him.
‘We were told we could only delay your delivery until today. We were in the area, so we thought we’d drop it off.’
‘Umm, it’s still a bit soon, but that’s okay.’ The floorboards are going to take forever to dry but I suppose I can leave it in the plastic in a corner for the time being. At least it’s here ready for when the floor does dry.
I squeeze past my glorious rug as the delivery guy leaves it with me. I can already see that it is going to fit perfectly once I can put it down. While part one of my superficial houseboat makeover is practically done, I won’t send photos to Hannah and Debbie until I’ve been to the market for my tulips. I want it just right before I send them the final ‘after’ photos.
Forty-eight hours later, when the floor is dry and I can put my nomad rug out, it couldn’t look better. Since I want to get some tulips for the finishing touch, I decide to head to theBloemenmarktearly. As I walk along, I begin to think how I may need to get a bike with a basket, just like that woman I saw on my first day here. That might have to be my one last investment. I probably can’t consider myself a true Amsterdam canal dweller until I own a bike and leave it propped up on the side of my houseboat. As I envisage myself riding along the endless cycle lanes, I become excited at the idea. The funny thing is though, despite all the bikes around, I haven’t noticed a cycle shop yet.
