Hips and Haws and a Kilted Man

Stop Lock at Hawksbury Junction

Morning All

Welcome to the Hedgerow Jottings on this most splendid of Bank Holidays. Carl and I are tied up under a tree in the blessed shade, a cooling breeze fans us and we had a picnic on the bank, feeding our crusts to a passing swan family, out on the cadge as usual. They float along using a one-legged paddle whilst resting the other leg on their tail as they glide along - I wonder why. The solar panels are catching the full power of the the sun and making lots of lovely free juice for the fridge. There are beers chilling dewily in the almost cold depths and, for once, Carl is happy to let it run as long and as hard as it needs to. I’m tapping away to the refrains of a Kenny Everett radio programme that Carl recorded in the last century and it’s in perfect harmony with the distant hum of a combine harvester and the swish and throb of the passing boats that have escaped from their boring marina moorings to join us on this very rural and extremely pretty Grand Union Canal.

Swan family on the cadge

It’s been a very lazy week for us - we lingered by the bottom of Hillmorton Locks for an extra day, reluctant to part company with our friends on the Naga Queen. The men painted and argued about the advantages of cleaning brushes as opposed to throwing them away – I suspect that discussion will run and run, while Pat and I had looked at old photos and got quite nostalgic. They waved us off on Thursday morning as we set off up the locks at Hillmorton and they turned for home. Tricky has been very grumpy since they left - she sulked in her bed for 2 whole days, pining for their ‘magic water’. We missed them too and decide to go into Rugby on the bus for retail therapy. We moored at the top of the locks and set off to find Carl a new guitar strap. I went along as chief navigator in the hope that there might be a frothy coffee in it for me if I found the music shop for him. Quite by accident(winking eye emoji), I found the delightful ‘Papillons’ for coffee, then we wandered around looking for ‘Sounds’ music shop. I don’t know how anyone managed before Google Maps - I used my phone and found the shop without any difficulty and we were just congratulating ourselves on being 'Savvy Seniors' when we were brought back to earth by a ‘Closed’ sign. So, not that clever after all eh! I do hate to go home empty handed so I took full advantage of having Carl and his muscles with me (he usually stays home to ‘mind the boat’) and purchased a pop up storage pouffe. The inside of the box is meant to store pairs of shoes but the shoe holders are the perfect size for containing my gin collection safely. The bottles can’t slide about and clash together and I can put my hand on the Pink Gin without grovelling about in the cupboard with a torch and then finding I don’t have the Fentimans Aromatic to go with it. I can stocktake easily and see at a glance when I need more tonic although I doubt I’ll run out of gin this side of Armageddon as I seem to have rather a nice selection! I can’t move the stool without a forklift truck mind you, but still, I like my new pouffe.

Cocktail Cabinet

I've been looking out for blackberries all this week - I collected cooking apples on my morning stroll with Tricky earlier in the week but the blackberries around Braunston remain stubbornly green. There is a disused railway line just along the canal from us and it used to be a good hunting ground for damsons as well as blackberries. As soon as the sun goes down and it cools off, I’ll put on suitable armour plating and go and do battle with the thorns. I love this change of seasons, the dusty dockings sending their rusty seeds off into the world, every hedge awash with red hawthorn berries and flame coloured rose-hips, the ‘hips and haws’ of medieval times. Purple elderberries hang in lush clusters, dewy and inviting but outrageously sour if you taste them. The fields turn yellow and brown as the crops are harvested and the farmers comb the stubble with harrows, ready for the plough. The torrential storms we had earlier in the week are a distant memory and I’m burrowing in the wardrobe for the summer things I put away too soon. Was it only last week that I asked Carl if I should get the winter quilt out? There is one sadness that always comes over us at this time of year; we can no longer deny that the long light evenings are slowly waning and the darkness creeps up on us much too early. The stove, only lit during the summer when the rain makes us damp and clammy, will be lit every morning and Carl will swap painting duties for wood chopping and stove maintenance.

Back panel freshly painted

 I have to report another sacrifice to the canal gods - this time it was my most favourite solar lamp. It hangs on the tiller arm during the day, soaking up the light and hanging in the narrow passageway between galley and cabin at night, very handy when you get up as often as I do! (I expect at least 50 percent of my audience is nodding, the other 50 are looking smug!) The incident occurred when Carl stepped off at the back to push us off the bank while we were still in gear going backwards. The stern hit the bank, the tiller swung hard over and the lamp was jettisoned off the (slightly sloping) tiller arm into the depths. It didn’t even bob up to say goodbye. We were in the middle of Braunston turn, no chance of fishing with the boat hook to see if we could recover it. Boats were coming at us from all directions, so there it is. Another of our treasured possessions lies at the bottom of the canal and I really liked that lamp (sad face emoji)!

Braunston Turn

The cabin temperature has been in the low thirties today, Tricky and I have tried every variation of inside/outside/under the cratch while Carl decided to paint the gas locker again. I do admire his stamina but it was the hottest job to undertake on such a very hot dayeven though the bows were in the shade. The parade of boats has at last slowed and the only sound now is the combine harvester still growling away in the distance. It’s going to be another scorcher tomorrow, I hope you’re all keeping cool.

I’ll write again next week

Love from

The Chandlers Afloat 

Ps As I walked along the towpath, I glanced across the way and saw a kilted Scotsman out for a stroll. He posed for a photo and he went on his way whistling - that started my day with a smile.

Hoots Mon!

Sun Hat on but note the black clouds behind us!

Chugging Along

Hawksbury Turn Engine House

Trompe L'Oeil at the Greyhound Pub

Horses at Anstey

Recalcitrant - very eye catching

Great Woodwork

Acorn time again

Working Boat and Butty

Nutfield and Raymond

Hillmorton Locks - so peaceful

What3Words: Walking,Cheese,Tricky

Alpaca on guard

Hello again,

We couldn’t wait to set off, once we arrived back at the boat on Tuesday, and there was much discussion about what to do with the car. We finally decided to leave it at the moorings and get the Lady Aberlour over the Trent as quickly as we could before the heavy rain arrived on Wednesday - any dawdling would mean that we might be stuck on the wrong side of Wychnor Lock, waiting for the water levels to drop. Transferring our gear from the car to the boat as quickly as we could, we struck up the engine and cast off the ropes ready for the trip to Willington to turn round. Getting in and out of our mooring spot is always a test of the Captain’s skill and patience. He stepped ashore to do the muscle work while I tried to steer us away. I revved the engine and swung the tiller and we trawled uselessly backwards and forwards for a while, churning up the muddy water until finally, we inched our way over the silt ‘bar’ that was blocking us in. At last! We were off and the sun was shining down hotly as we chugged along, with the gentlest of breezes to ruffle our hair. Tricky was in her usual place on the hatch so I slipped below to make us a brew and and a cheese sandwich to fortify us for the trip ahead. The various ukulele bags, boxes and rucksacks we had brought with us were scattered everywhere, so I left Carl up top while I unpacked the cool bag and piled everything else in the space at the end of the bed. Unpacking would have to wait - there were 6 locks and several hours of chugging to do before we could get over the Trent to the safe haven of Alrewas village. It was after 7 ‘o’ clock when we finally tied up that evening and Carl took pity on me and nipped to the chippie so that I wouldn’t have to cook and Tricky settled into her bed and snored the evening away - too tired to eat her kibble.

Tyre Art

The rain came on Wednesday, as promised, but it was a light drizzle so I put on my new Craghoppers coat (a bargain from Frost’s garden centre, labelled ‘waterproof’ which is always a lie!) and set off for the village to stock up with supplies. I popped into Coates butchers for the obligatory 14 sausages and then onward to the Co-Op for milk and fruit. I do love this time of the year, sweet nectarines, plums and peaches fill my bag along with strawberries and raspberries and a teeny pot of cream (Licking Lips Emoji). I’m keen to get going so I ignore the drizzle and suggest that we set off before the heavy rain starts. We made it through two locks and my waterproof coat was repelling the raindrops nicely until the drizzle turned into a steady sheet and the water ran off my coat and soaked my jeans and leaked into my trainers. (Note to self, waterproof coat is working, now look out for some waterproof trousers!) Oh well, once you’re wet, you may as well keep going, so we continued on through Fradley and turned onto the Coventry and chugged along looking for our friends on the Naga Queen, who was somewhere up ahead. We found them lurking near the Kings Orchard Marina and settled in behind them for a good old catch up.

Skinny Bridge 36

It was a trifle damp underfoot on Thursday morning but Tricky, Pat and I walked along the towpath towards Huddlestone Junction, Malc and Carl chugging along behind us and the freshness of the new day putting a spring in our step. There were a few boats in front of us at the ‘Tamworth Two’ Locks so we ate our lunch on the hoof as we waited for our turn. Carl decided to water up at the top so the Naga Queen went on ahead to find a suitable mooring spot to sit out the heavy rain predicted for Friday. I went off to the Co-op (yes – again!!) Carl collected me from the next bridge with another big bag of supplies to go in the ‘emergency rations’ cupboard. I’m calling it the ‘Hard Brexit’ rations - I’m hoping I never have to live on the stuff I’ve got in there. Did anyone ever eat tinned Pease Pudding?

Trent looking very blue

Thursday was as long as the rest of the week rolled into one, we chugged around the the outskirts of Tamworth, past Pooley Park, where two boys were chasing a runaway ‘Gnasher’ dog and onwards towards Polesworth. On and on we chugged, hoping to find the Naga Queen moored up but Pat and Malc gave us no quarter and it was late afternoon before we spied them just opening the lock gates at the bottoms of the Atherstone flight. They waved us into the lock ahead of them and Pat called out to ask me if I was ready to moor up. Was she joking? ‘I was ready to moor up about 3 hours ago’ I called back and chugged into the lock without bumping the sides, which made me feel a little better.

Boating in the rain

Friday was wet and windy, so we stayed put and had a house-keeping day. I finally got to unpack all the bags and during the usual game of ‘hunt for a new crevice in which to store a ukulele case/a knitting bag/large cool box/a suitcase that folds flat but still takes up an exorbitant amount of space, I found a stash of towels that I’d put away to make more room in the airing cupboard drawer. I was looking everywhere for towels at home, It seems that I have the entire stock of Dunelms, safely stored in scented vacuum bags, under the boat bed. Now the question is, when I pack up to come home in October, will those towels make it home?

Three Little Ducks

It was on Friday afternoon that I glanced out of the window and saw a man wearing a large rucksack – he was stooping down, as if in pain. We helped him into a deckchair and made him a cup of tea and he told us he was walking to Wales. He was a man down on his luck, although I couldn’t really fathom out the truth of what had happened to him, but I listened and made him a cheese roll and did him a pack-up to take with him on his long journey and wished him well as he went off down the towpath. I gave him directions so he could catch a bus into Lichfield, hoping that he could find a bed and maybe get a travel pass to get home. I’m grateful every day for the happy life I have and I never take it for granted. I hope the Walking Man makes it home safely.

Garden Boat

So my dear friends and family, that’s all for this week. I have to go and find Tricky who has run away to live on the Naga Queen. She really is the most ungrateful dog!

More next week
Love from
The Floating Chandlers


Ps If you’ve not come across What3Words before, its a clever way of sending your location to someone who is trying to find you. We’ve had a lot of fun with it this week - tonight we are at saves.chemistry.fall - see if you can find out where that is. Prizes are front row seats for my debut ukulele performance, please bring your own ear-plugs!

Pps. Saw some very strange skies this week. I’ve posted the best photos on the blog but they hardly do it justice.

Stormy Sky at Night

Sunset at Hartshill

Charity Dock

Charity Dock

Evening Cruise

Bagnall Lock in the rain

Honey Bees