Apparently Clapton is the place to be for street shopping. It’s rare that I walk to the station without passing a house that has laid out a selection of random goods to be re-homed. This is particularly dangerous for me as I have a thing for things that are a little bit broken. The squashed cereal packet? Mine. The boat with no engine? Mine. The friends with low self-esteem? Mine. (THAT WAS A JOKE EVERYBODY). I also like second hand things. I also just like things – and seeing as moving onto a boat was supposed to be an adventure in Having Less Things, all this free shit everywhere is tricky. However, I’ve managed to rein it in. Probably because I’m still not totally convinced that this boat isn’t going to sink.
I have one new thing though…… INTRODUCING BROKEN BETTY!
I saw her across the street on the way to the pound shop and I thought, “Betty” which is strange because despite my love of things, I really don’t like naming things. So Broken Betty came home with me and I’ve only regretted it once, when I got into my boat at night, forgot I’d put her in front of the door, and nearly had a severe heart complication.
Originally, she was on the roof of the boat, and looked fucking magnificent. Like the Statue of Liberty. But the morning after, I woke up to a bunch of facebook messages from nearby boats basically saying I don’t know what that is, or who you are, but take it down immediately. Apparently she’s “creepy”.
She’s not. She’s on the bank now, watching over me.