Having spent all of yesterday working, as the rain rained like rainy rain outside (or inside, in the case of the kitchen: we have a flat not-entirely-still-a roof situation there), we decided to go Out today. To the sea, and to the aquarium shop just outside Skirlaugh to buy more turbo snails¹, whatever inclemency the sky might hurl us.
As chance would have it, friends Piers and Gill in Donnie got in touch in the morning; they were going to Brid, and would we like to meet? So that's what we did, at The Best Fish and Chip Shop in England, which just happens to be at 149 Marton Road in Brid. Very, very good it is too, as we all found scoffing the food in the German Barge - it was a rare moment of sunshine, but dry seats were hard to come by outside where it had precipitated while we waited for our fish, and we didn't fancy eating standing up. Mac and I had had half an hour walking on the beach before: north in the sun with the wind behind us, then back south battling the gale into the gathering storm, so appetite was a given.
After a good while deconstructing the state of the world, we drove down in tandem to the aquarium shop, where turbo snails there were none. Woe. We compensated in slight excess by buying two red shrimp, a Royal Gramma (that'll be a fish, m'lud), and three diverse little frags of coral instead.
After that, back in tandem to Hull, where, sitting on the frosted glass walls of a well-furnished room, we drank mint tea and grew in static mindpower. Sorry. What I meant was that we sat at the dining table drinking Earl Gray or Assam, and had a good natter, while the new aquatic arrivals compensated with their new environment before final entry.
Royal Gramma George (all our tanklife are called George) wasn't having any aclimatisation nonsense though, and slipped out of the plastic bag into the tank without so much as a by your leave, and vanished to our eyes, causing consternation and worry. Se² emerged for a visible swim some quarter of an hour later unworried, before vanishing once more. Turns out that hir species likes to grub around to find a safe rock retreat to defend, so that's what se's been doing.
Piers and Gill have returned home to Donnie now, and we're about to consume the bubble'n'squeak with a fried egg Mac's constructing for us tea. Which will be nice, and a good start to the tail end of a good day.
ETA And now we're about to drive to Selby to collect an unexpected 4" Yellow Tang. This is not sensible. We're doing it anyhow.
ETA2 Home again, with Yellow Tang George getting used to a new home thanks to judicious use of a turkey baster. As are a starfish and another coral. Oops.
¹ We had a spate of turbo snail losses (they're there to help clean the tank); they chose in succession to dive down the water return pipe into the sump below, before I tied a washing tablet bag over the pipe mouth to stop such adventure. Some survived to be rescued (as did Clown Fish George when they did the same), some didn't.
² Apologies if gender neutral pronouns upset; how do you sex a Royal Gramma?
This entry was originally posted at http://perlmonger.dreamwidth.org/161228.h