Freshwater; fresh air

The work party definitely broke through my mental dam. I did a lot this week and can wrap my bruisey little brain around doing more.

I replumbed the fresh water tubing! There was a lot less grabbing and twisting than I feared. One sink works; the other doesn't. But I'm quite sure now that it's the sink.

I checked the plumbing elsewhere, and, although the holding tank will be cumbersome, I don't think it will be all that difficult. Knock wood.

I took down the jib, so I can take it to get the sailcover replaced. I brought down the racing jib, so I can theoretically sail sloop-rigged, but it's not hooked on yet.

I told the guy who sold me the boat that every lead he's given me to get the engine fixed has been a dead end, and he can [expletives deleted in my mind] help with it himself. So he agreed to help check it for spark. I have to get the right-sized wrench. (No comment.)

I've figured out how to make the workspace work. I've started figuring out how to make the forepeak into a comfortable, lovely, useful little bower. I feel like I've got a lot to look forward to.

And every morning that it isn't actually pissing down, I stick my head out of the hatch to see everything washed with yellow, peach, blue and green as the day suffuses the water and sky. There is no air like a dawn breeze.