Trouble N Strife

Stoke Bruerne at Night

 Morning Jotters

We have been truly blessed with the most splendid autumn sunshine this week - every morning we've woken to clear blue skies and the pale shadow of the moon, shining on defiantly against the rising sun. The canals are wreathed in early morning mist and the first hint of a frosty rime touches the shady hedgerows, glittering and sparkling as I peek through the curtains. This is the very best combination of autumnal weather - hot sunny days, cool nights and, for the boater, just a hint of a breeze so that the boat needs only the lightest touch on the tiller to keep a straight course.

Gayton Mooring

 This week we hung around Bugbrooke for a few days, mooring by the Wharf pub for one night then pushing over onto the tow-path side for a second night. We visited the 'Battery Boys' at Boating Leisure Services to get our Eberspacher (heating system) fixed and had a guided tour of their latest fit out - a beautiful boat that will, I'm sure, win them more medals at the Crick show. We do love our boat but I was very envious of the granite work tops and dishwasher in the spacious galley and the full size shower with a thermostatic mixer control. It's hard to get the settings just right with our old fashioned tap system, I'm often caught out with a cold blast when I'm expecting hot and vice versa. The price tag made our eyes water but the amount of technology installed in the 'electrics' cupboard made us envious.

Just Cruisin'

We'd arranged to meet our friends Richard and Mel for a farewell supper at the Wharf on Wednesday and we arrived early to make sure we got a place on the pub moorings. The sun was shining hotly when we arrived so up when the panels and out came the rubber brush to clean up the hairy mats, ready for inspection. I had promised our guests that I would make scones for afternoon tea but during the clean up operation, I ripped the nail off my thumb and it had to be plastered up. Not to be beaten, I press-ganged Carl into being my hands, while I gave him instructions about kneading, rubbing and rolling out. Carl didn't understand the term 'gather your mixture' but eventually the ball of scone mixture was ready to be shaped and cut out. After a bit of a slapping about from Carl, they were eventually popped into a hot oven where we promptly forgot about them until the guests arrived. I looked up from my Sudoku puzzle just in time to save them from cremation and Carl got 10 out of 10 for his first attempt at baking. They were delicious, hot from the oven with butter and jam.

Blue Skies, Chilly Mornings

 Next morning, we pushed across to the public moorings and, leaving Tricky on guard duty, we caught a bus into town. Carl went to Northampton on his bus, to see his Dad and have a wander around his home town. I went into Daventry and spent a lovely sunny hour browsing the charity shops, before diving into Waitrose for smoked haddock and salad stuff to match the weather. Later that afternoon, when we were both back aboard, we thought about chugging off to a more remote spot but Carl said he ought to make the most of the nice weather and got out his black paint to touch up the gunwhales. Big Mistake as they say in Pretty Woman. The guy on the boat in front struck up a generator, which he positioned on his back deck, right next to our front doors. After an hour, fed up of the noise and smoke, I went off with the dog to collect wood for the morning. As I came back, clutching a good sized log in my hand, I could see Carl and the big chap with the generator 'having words'. I hurried up towards them and the chap turned, saw me coming in my 'clown' trousers (baggy, black and white and sooooo comfy)clutching a 'cudgel' and he scurried off back inside his own boat. I'm not sure what it was that made him change his mind, I don't think I looked that scary really, but maybe he thought I was a bit potty.

Sunset Evening

We were up and off early the next morning, back to the horse field at Gayton where there is only the occasional train whizzing by to disturb the peace and the distant honking of hooters from cars going over the tiny humpbacked canal bridge nearby. Tricky and I wandered along the dewy tow-path, eating the blackberries (me, not Tricky) and scooted aboard quickly to avoid the man walking 5 Border Collies towards us. They were joyous dogs, bounding along and nosing into the bows as they went by. He must have walked miles with them as it was hours later before they returned.The last nice day was yesterday, we thought that we would make the most of it and pop through the Blisworth Tunnel to Stoke Bruerne. We were lucky to get on the sunny moorings nearest the lock, the ones by the tunnel are under trees and in shade for most of the day. The tow-path was busy and a whole herd of greyhounds came by, some with three legs, some with muzzles but all with those soulful eyes that make your heart melt. I chatted to one group who said they often met up to walk their rescued dogs together through Stoke Bruerne - it was very nice to see these old racing greyhounds having such a wonderful life with their new owners. There were a couple of trading boats further up - Nancy May selling crocheted hats, gloves and scarves and and another selling ice-cream, coffee and cold drinks. Nearly everyone who walked by us that afternoon had a cone or a coffee, and the trip boat was full every time he passed us on his way to the tunnel and back. In spite of having all the doors and hatches open, the temperature inside the boat rose steadily until by late afternoon it was 30 degrees. Phew! It was almost dark by the time it cooled off enough for us to walk Tricky and we sat outside the Boat Inn in our tee shirts drinking cider.

Stoke Bruerne

 Tonight we are moored at the bottom of the Stoke Bruerne Locks - it rained this afternoon, the first time for ages. I think it's all over - yes, it is now.

Love from

The Floating Chandlers

ps Remember the poor old chap we met at Atherstone? The one who was walking back to Wales? We saw him again this week, marching along the towpath towards Gayton which is in the general direction of London, not at all the way to Wales. As soon as he saw us, he stopped walking and bent over clutching his chest, just like last time. We would always stop and help someone in real trouble but we didn't fall for this trick twice.

Blisworth Tunnel

Pps The trip boat moored by us on the pub moorings at the Wharf and my eye was caught by the passengers, splendid in the scarlet uniforms of the Royal Hospital – Chelsea Pensioners. It was a privilege to spend a little time chatting to them and they were all smiling as they went off to tuck into their pub grub lunch.

Chelsea Pensioner

Misty Morning

Tee Shirts in September?

Morning Cruise

Tunnel Positions - under the hatch

Walking the Dogs