Job #3 involved a lot of swearing and some falling over.

No, it wasn’t fixing the hot water. The heater has been sent away to a Mikuni borstal in Southampton where it will be prodded with a stick whipped into shape.

We’ve got to the point in boat living where in order to navigate our way through the good ship we have to dodge the obstacles littering our path. These obstacles consist primarily of junk. Useful junk though, such as extension cables, tins of paint, art boxes, various hammers and screwdrivers... and an exercise bike (no, really...). There isn’t anywhere handy to store the bike but a nice big sideboard with drawers and cupboards would be ideal for hiding everything else away whilst making the boat look sophisticated and grown up. Sideboards are for grown ups. This is a well known fact.

So, we ordered a nice looking one online and were a little surprised to discover we had to pay an extra £10 for delivery. We have a van, we could collect (read ‘we’ as ‘the hubby’) but no, it would take two people to deliver it in a very big lorry. Pah, I thought, I’ll show them when it arrives and I carry it nimbly onto the boat without any assistance. They’ll have to pay me back my £10 because I’m so strong and capable and would have effectively delivered it myself...

Ok, so it didn’t quite go according to plan.

The lorry arrived eventually after getting lost on the way to our pub.

Yes, pub.

I pointed at the tiny marina and pulled an expression that I hoped conveyed the message of “does this look like a pub to you?” I fear it didn’t work as the deliveryman asked again if it was. Eventually he lifted my flat pack sideboard into my awaiting cart with such ease that I thought maybe he had accidentally delivered a box of Styrofoam balls by mistake.

Now, I am a bit useless at maths, but he drove the lorry, he unloaded my sideboard, he loaded it onto my cart... I count that as ONE man. I was tempted to ask for half my money back since I only got half a delivery service... I didn’t though because he was nice and friendly and I’d only have to phone up the company later to inform them that someone was missing a box of Styrofoam balls and please could I have my sideboard. I'd mention it then.

It was only when I came to transfer the box onto the boat that I realised I had in fact mistaken the delivery man for a human and not the Iron-man that he was because I tried to lift the box up and... Nothing happened.

It was too bloody heavy for me to lift.

So heavy in fact, that I had to unpack it and move it piece by piece onto the boat whilst accepting that I am a wimp with no upper body strength...or lower body strength for that matter.
Still, I was yet to prove my capabilities by assembling the sideboard. I’d have it done in an hour or so. I mean, how hard can it be to assemble a piece of flat pack furniture in a confined space?


Look it has knobs, well, feet to most people, but nowt shows progress like a set of knobs...
Six hours later the hubby arrived home to find me swearing at bits of wood and screws and he may have taken pity on me because he got involved (with a complete disregard for the instructions...).

At this point I was left to control the unruly wildlife that was taking an interest in proceedings and consume copious amounts of tea.

But we did finish the epic build only eight hours behind my original schedule. It hasn’t stopped us dumping all our junk on the floor and we still trip over everything. Well, I do because I’m clumsy with no sense of balance or self awareness. The hubby just strides over it all... but we do feel all sophisticated and grown up now because we own a sideboard.