A relaxing Saturday

A grey and quiet day. Motor-sailing to Ireland. Oernulf tries his hand at crosswords and I’m at lesson 23 in my Spanish book..
It’s Saturday. That means “rice porridge” for lunch in Norway. And, what luck, we have exactly one bag of “instant” left. 25 minutes of stirring later, drowned in sugary cinnamon, we’re lapping it up. As “Babette” steers herself north and east.