I can hear November calling

I have been working on my book bit by bit as time permits. Not even close to being finished.

But last night I kept writing this scene opening in my dreams:

The sea water lapped against the sides of the small wooden boat. A row boat or dingy as most would call it. My family, different as usual, called these vessels a dinky. The consistent soft water pat was soothing as I lay feet to bow, my head supported by the well worn planking of the seat at the stern. The oars safely tucked in around my hips I watched huge clouds dance across the cerulean sky.

"...a dingy as most would call it. My family, different as usual, called it a dinky"

Somewhere I have to work this in... calling a dingy a dinky is what kept repeating in my tossing and turning.

Okay it needs work. I really need to learn more about parts of boats. I think the oars would be longer than to have the paddle part at my hips...

Anyway just wanted to get that down before I forgot it. No idea where it is going.

That's the fun part.