Is it only a man-thing, or can women potter as well? Read on to see Part One of a two-part duology (is that a word?)

It was a wonderful sunny afternoon yesterday and I'd finished work early, so a quick pop down to the Boat For My Potplants wouldn't go amiss.


I didn't want to do anything too taxing. I lit a candle on the rear deck and looked around, checking to make sure the two Snowy dogs were okay and weren't feeling too left out after the recent Cutest Canine shenanigans in which they weren't allowed to enter (as they were bound to have won). They seemed to be okay.


Then I wandered around the galley (kitchen), and found an almost full bottle of white wine left over from last year's Smallest Pirate Radio Station madness. I thought I'd better make sure it was still drinkable. It was.


After that I lifted up the ol' shagpile and checked the bilge. There was a wee bit of water there. 'No!', my mother would say. 'A bit goes in a horse's mouth.' Okay, mum, there was a wee drop of water there.


So I sponged it up, and looked around to see what else I could do, without actually doing anything. I opened the lockers to make sure that things were still there, and I moved the things around a bit. I switched on the lights and then off again. I turned on the radio and listened for a while, and made mental notes of the various jobs to be done during the coming days, weeks and months ahead.


But for now I was content with simply mastering the art of pottering on a boat and not doing very much at all.