A sunny walk
Carl here on Jottings duty - Linda says it's my turn this week and my motto is 'Happy Wife, Happy Life'!
It's true
We'd just got through the Foxton Swing-bridge when the day-boat hove into view, it was so close to the stonework of the next bridge that the sound of steel grinding against stone was clearly audible to the day trippers at Barry Island. I immediately slowed to tick over and prepared to finish off my cheese sandwich really quickly. I do like a nice cheese sandwich. Meanwhile, Ming the Merciless, the skipper of the incoming day-boat, did some quick mental arithmetic and, with masterful indecision, increased to ramming speed, simultaneously zig zagging from side to side. After trying and faiing to find the autopilot he ordered his crew to wave their arms about a bit. This didn't help as much as Ming would have liked. But wait! With a sudden and unexpected flash of inspiration, he stopped zooming from bank to bank and adopted a more traditional method of narrow boating, one which most of us adopt at some point in our cruising career. That is, he began cruising in a straightish line, following the contours of the waterway. All that was needed now was for him to not ram us. If our boat had deflection-shields, I would have activated them. As it was, all I could do was sound the horn and continue my evasive action. This gave him the clue he needed, and, right at the last possible moment, he swerved sharply, missing us by inches. Phew, close call folks.
Johnson's Bridge
Well dear readers, such excitement! The above incident happened this morning, as we made yet another journey back towards Market Harborough. There is very little to convey to you from this week's adventure except some aimless milling around - we've travelled two hundred and twenty miles so far this year without any real plan. By the way, does anyone else really hate this spell-checker/word altering thing? I happily type a paragraph or two about kingfishers, or how to bake bread while teaching ravens to fly underwater (thank you Peter Cook), and when I read it back it's been turned into an episode of Dixon of Dock Green, except with odd, random words added. Words like "butter huddle", "sparrow-fish" or, my personal favourite, "piffwibbler". How many of you remember George Dixon? They were the days weren't they? But I digress.
Now, we need to be in Leicester for 22nd May, and plan on going there by boat. Trouble is, we don't want to get there too early, hence why we're hanging around in this neck of the woods. I won't bore you to tears with talk of the Foxton flight (not a famous aircraft journey), Uncle Tom Cobbly's Wobbly bridge (totally made up) or the broken swing bridge at the entrance to the Market Harborough arm. There really is a broken swing bridge at the entrance to the Market Harborough arm. Rumour has it that the Canal and River Trust say they won't be mending it anytime soon, if at all.
Evening over Foxton
Poor old Tricky is confused. We've spent a lot of time this week with some very good friends of ours, who live close to M.H. (I will now refer to Market Harborough as M.H. as typing the town name in full is now causing me to lose the will to live.). Anyway, Tricky seems to have decided that having visitors on a daily basis is now a legal requirement, ratified by our parliament and also in Brussels. No-one has visited today, and our Tricky is very unnerved. She rode on the hatch earlier this morning, keeping awake for, oh I don't know, maybe a minute or so before snuggling down and going to sleep. Usually that's a full days "being awake" for her. In a totally out of character sort of way, she has been like an ill sitting hen all afternoon. She's slept for an hour, then spent five minutes gazing expectantly at the tow-path, slept for a further hour, then more tow-path gazing, and so it has gone on. I wonder if it is some sort of diabolical canine mind control. I guess we'll never know. Another of life's mysteries. Like do birds get beak-ache?
View from Johnson's Bridge
We've had a mixed bag of weather this week, starting out hot and sunny, gradually cooling down over the course of five days or so, and then persistent rain from yesterday afternoon until late last night. Luckily, it didn't rain while I was doing a bit of painting on the roof. The rain had the decency to wait until the last brush stroke had been applied before hammering down. Sadly, the battle of painting the boat versus the weather continues. A week in a dry-dock may be the only way to get the job done. We'll have to see. I'll keep you posted.
I've just been out for a breath of fresh air. Tricky has wind. It caused us to abandon ship and join the anglers on the tow-path. Moving on, the mornings have been a tad chilly aboard Lady Aberlour. Normally I'd light the fire, but for some reason I just couldn't be bothered. I can't remember why. Probably we didn't have any kindling, or matches or something. After a few hints from Linda, I decided (Linda decided) to turn on the central heating. And lo, the boat and all who sailed in her were warm. Needless to say, the heating has been on every morning since but only for an hour!
Is there anyone out there interested in astronomy? I only ask because I took a look at Jupiter last Saturday night through our telescope. What really blew me away was that I could even see some of Jupiter's moons. It was truly jaw dropping. I find it inconceivable that there is a flat earth society. Still, there you go.
Well, it would appear that this will have to be it for now. It's tea-time, and home made chicken korma beckons, so I'll call it a day and say farewell. Linda will be back next week with more of her witterings.
Love from
The Floating Chandlers
PS We spoke to a very old boater recently who'd spent almost his whole life on a narrowboat. He said that not many people realised that boating was a game, and just like any other game boating had rules. It was important to know the rules, because boating wasn't a game. (Black Books fans may recognise a different version of that story!).
PPS Linda here – I'm not allowed to censor this weeks edition so please address all complaints to The Captain!!
Still looking for this in the Collins Wildlife book
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