Hedgerow Jottings: Some Days Are Diamond

Shady Mooring in Wheaton Aston

Hello from the Floating Oven

The heatwave continues and Carl and I have abandoned our plan to boat to Gloucester in favour of a trip up the shady Shroppie. We've pottered along from one cool patch of shade to the next, sitting out on the towpath until the heat of the day slips away with the setting sun. The nights, thankfully, have been much cooler but still I've needed my USB fan which hangs from the overhead locker and hums away, lulling me to sleep.

We left Tixall Wide on a cool Monday morning and, once we'd got through the lock, Carl left me on the tiller while he made the coffee. Standing at the tiller on a summers morning, watching the swallows dipping and diving and a buzzard gliding effortlessly across the valley, is balm for the soul. I have to confess that sometimes, even on my beloved boat, I wake up feeling a little Mondayish but an hour on the stern, watching the watery world go by, soon cures that! The coffee arrived and we floated along listening to the birdsong and trying to cheer Tricky up – she does seem to be terminally glum and it's a diamond day indeed when Tricky wags her tail! I handed back the tiller and went below to do battle with the washing machine and soon had my sheets in the bows, where they dried in a flash.

The high winds and heavy rain over the weekend had brought a tree down across the canal at Shutt Hill so nothing was coming towards us. It made a nice change not to meet a boat at every bridge! We were tempted to moor by the pub on Radford Bank and catch the bus into Stafford for shopping but decided that it would be too hot to leave the boat shut up with Tricky aboard so we chugged on and moored up by the Stafford Boat Club. We were waiting for a rush of oncoming boats which would let us know the way forward was clear again but time ticked on and nothing arrived. We consulted Mr Google for directions, deployed the rucksacks and set off up a track by the side of the Boat Club, heading for the Co-op and fresh milk. (I do hate it when you stagger out of bed, desperate for your morning brew, and the milk falls into your tea in a lump so you have to wait for the kettle to boil again.) We followed the footpath up and up through the trees, by a brook that should have been burbling but was struggling to do anything except make a murky puddle in the bottom of the dried up bed. At last, we came out in the middle of a housing estate and as we followed Mr Google maps around the outskirts, I noticed that there was a bus stop on every corner. I inspected the timetable wondering if I could catch a bus into Stafford from here. Sadly, the timetable was very brief - one bus in the morning and another in the afternoon and if it stopped at every stop around this large estate then you'd be an age getting anywhere! The Co-op was right next door to a pub, how very convenient for a convenience store! It was very tempting on a hot day after such a long walk up hill, but I settled for an ice lolly and saved my syns for a large G&T as a reward for mountaineering through the jungle for a couple of pints of semi-skimmed. We dawdled back down the hill, Tricky waddling along behind us, sniffing every blade of grass and walking slower and slower as if she was a clockwork dog winding down. A shower swooped along the canal as we crossed the bridge to the tow path, it ruffled the surface but was gone in a flash. Boats were travelling in both directions past our mooring by the time we got back so we gathered that the fallen tree had been removed. The sun was on the panels so we decided to call it a day and tackle the locks up to Penkridge before the sun got too hot the next day..

We arrived at Penkridge on Tuesday afternoon and moored below the lock, ready for the Market on Wednesday. We set out early and and bought enough cherries, plums and strawberries to keep us safe from the dreaded scurvy and Carl topped up his stores with paint brushes and 'Big Boy' filler. (That name makes me smile, so much more memorable than the other option called simply 'Repair Metal'.) Imagine ladies, if the same person was responsible for naming our lipsticks we'd be wearing 'Gob Wax' - sorry, was that a bit too strong for your delicate sensibilities? Please address all complaints to the Captain - he's used to them!

Our trip up the Shroppie this week has been blighted with noise - we're surrounded by engine runners, who wait till everyone is sitting outside, then strike up a stinking, noisy engine right next to you and run it for hours. Tonight it's a particularly hot one, over 30 degrees since about 3pm but we've kept cool sitting out under the trees with a nice breeze blowing – it would be a diamond day except for the flipping engine runner next door - he's been running for hours. I can't ask him to switch off as he's not on board - I expect he's in the pub! I'm plugged into my Apple Music again, listening to a favourite old album by John Denver - hence the title of this blog, did anyone recognise it? I think we may be about to embark on an evening cruise to escape the racket.

And we did! Of course, as soon as we struck up our engine, the engine runner switched off! Carl had the tiller between his teeth by now so we set off regardless, with Tricky on the hatch looking slightly less depressed than usual and a very happy Captain and crew. We arrived at our new mooring spot a few degrees cooler and our good humour restored. The sun is setting over the nearby farmyard and there's a beautiful red sky. I don't need a shepherd to tell me it's going to be another scorcher tomorrow - another diamond day, if we're lucky.

That's all from me for this week lovely Jotters - keep cool, drink plenty and when you're too hot to sleep try a cold hot water bottle - trust me, it really works. Wishing you lots of diamond days.

Love from

The Floating Chandlers

PS Met so many nice people this week, dog walkers, ramblers, holiday boaters and day boaters. The prize for the most memorable costume goes to an enthusiastic day boater dressed all in white - we're not sure if he was Top Gun or Max and Paddy, but he made us laugh as he stood to attention and saluted us from the bows of his tiny boat.

PPS Moored by the holiday park in Brewood - normally a very quiet mooring. The people opposite us were sitting outside their caravan singing along to an 80's play list, very loudly and very badly. They were having a diamond day - we were shining less brightly!