It Must Be Thursday. . .
I won't put it lightly, today has sucked. Mattresses, spare parts, gnomes, tools, pipes and more mattresses all coming in for a ship that isn't here yet, and into a town that can't handle it. Super. Don't want to bore you too much. . . so I won't. Suffice to say I'm off to check the piers, count some Exhaust Flue Gas Boiler Tubes, snap some pics of a couple bearings that are to get crated up and sent to New York and then it's off to the mattress warehouse where I've got to see a man about a horse.
I picked the wrong day to quit huffin' turpentine.