God Bless Her and All Who Sail in Her

“God bless her and all who sail in her.”

I say it every single time. It makes me chuckle but it does have a nice air of solemnity, fitting for the occasion. It winds Ellen up no end, but I don’t let that derail me.  Mind you, she thinks the whole enterprise is a pompous waste of time. But to say so is to undermine the whole premise of SIBS.

SIBS, that is to say the Ships In Bottles Society, of which I am a founding member, is a serious business. It takes months to get a ship in a bottle you know. Very laborious task, and the last winching up of the sails through the tiny neck of the bottle with a cocktail stick is no mean feat.

Ellen doesn’t appreciate that. Reckons it’s a waste of time and that she’d rather have a hand with the housework! As if a bit of dust matters in the long-run anyway. That’s the beauty of dust – you can let it build up and build up and then it’s all gone in a trice with just a whisk of a hoover. In fact it’s more satisfying when you can see a dramatic result so I’m not sure why she’s always on about getting it done every other day.

In any case, we built our retirement around SIBS. It was always my vision. Find a little coastal idyll with a good community and an interest in seafaring and then set the whole enterprise up. You can sell them to tourists for a very decent price indeed, I showed her my business plan before we moved down here – more of a courtesy than anything, don’t think she understood it bless her. I haven’t sold any of mine yet, it was the intention to top up the old pension with a spot of income, but each of them are so unique I don’t want to part with them. Not to an oaf who doesn’t appreciate them. Or a bore who thinks he knows more than me. And sadly all my prospective customers seem to fall into either of those categories.

Anyhow, Ellen has nothing to complain about. Plenty to keep her busy down here. No grandkids to clog up the hours with endless babysitting. Our daughter lives abroad – in Thailand, would you believe. It’s a blessing she went off the rails really, I keep telling Ellen, and she’s settled and happy over on the other side of the world. And it’s not as though we’d have time to look after a grandchild anyway, our own schedules are very packed. We built our retirement around SIBS, you see.

 

 

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Alex Jury

Alex Jury

Alex Jury is a retired cowgirl, now working as a copywriter in London. She loves working with words but misses all the lassoing.
Alex Jury

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