Hedgerow Jottings: Vindictive Pigeons!

Sunny Morning

Hello my lovely Jotters.

I’m writing from the cosy cabin of our beloved boat while a storm rages around us. The rain is lashing on the roof, the canal is slapping a wet rhythm on the bows, the wind is buffeting our new cover and I was very tempted to insert an Oxford Comma in there to see if you were paying attention (insert monocled emoji).

Shroppie on a chilly morning

We have had a couple of weeks on the Shroppie, to round off our autumn cruise, going as far as Norbury before turning and setting our compass for home waters. This stretch of canal is very familiar to us - we know all the spots where you can moor without worrying about the ‘Shroppie Shelf’. When we were new and green in boating matters, Carl used to use wheelbarrow tyres to push us away from the shelf when we moored up. This worked well until we got Tricky and then that gap was too much for her to jump. After chugging up and down here for so many years, we have our favourite spots and many happy memories with each place. Our spot today is Chillington Wharf - how appropriate for such a cold and wet day!

Storm clouds coming!

It was a nice day when we moored at Wheaton Aston so we set off for a wander into the village. I found a chemist and popped in to see if he could find my prescription which is ‘on the spine’ somewhere in the cloud waiting for me to collect it. It’s a great system, when it works, as it means I can pick up my regular prescriptions wherever we happen to be. The chemist shop was tiny with just the chemist himself sitting in his office and a very small shop space attached. I was a little in awe of his beard and moustache arrangement as it covered most of his face and even his eyes were screened by bushy eyebrows but he knew all about the ‘spine’ and ran off my prescription without any trouble. We stumbled upon a coffee morning in the village church and wandered in to see what was on offer. We bought a heap of books and two coffees and sat in the lovely sunshine, chatting to the vicar (I swear she was Geraldine Grainger, the Vicar of Dibley). We were just getting stuck into the Jammy Dodgers when Tricky started barking. Those of you who have met Tricky will know that she is very genteel and rarely puts herself out to wag her tail and certainly doesn’t bark like any common sort of dog. Imagine our surprise when she suddenly shot out from under the table, flung herself full stretch against the lead and barked twice. We were amazed - what an earth could have brought that on? The culprit was a very ecclesiastical looking moggie, who dropped in to check if there was any spare adulation going. Don’t you think all cats think they are minor deities?

Still Not Got The Hang Of Selfies

There was lots of space when we reached Gnosall and we moored by the Navigation and caught the bus into Newport. There are lots of charity shops here and one rucksack was full of books long before we got to Waitrose. We staggered back to the boat, weighed down with provisions, ready for a longer than usual stay at Norbury. There’s no bus or shop there so if the cupboards are bare, you might be tempted into the pub and we often have been!

Gloomy in places

I was delighted to find a charity stall set up at Norbury and was soon deep in conversation with them about their fundraising which was the restoration of the Shrewsbury and Newport Canal. I doubt we will ever be able to take our boat along it but I admire the commitment and energy of those who are trying to raise the funds and steer through the bureaucracy to make it happen. I signed up for a family membership and gave them our spare ukulele for their stall and we shall follow their progress in the hope that they can succeed in reconnecting Newport before we get too old to navigate it. I do seem to go on a lot about where we moor, but if you get a bad mooring (ie in the shade, behind a noisy engine runner, Gongoozlers peering in through the windows) it can spoil your day. We chugged up to Turners in Wheaton Aston and found he had just closed – how annoying. We pushed across and moored opposite the fuel quay thinking we would be first in the queue next day . There were some very vindictive pigeons in the trees along there – they were deliberately kicking the branches to shower us with acorns and then crapping on our new cover – how very dare they! Carl was so incensed that he reversed back past 4 boats to a space that was clear of trees and Carl really does hate reversing!

Sniffing our way home

Boating along the peaceful Shroppie does give us some hope in a world that seems to be falling apart. The golden tints of the turning leaves, scarlet berries in the hedges, black sloes gleaming with raindrops, a glimpse of turquoise as a kingfisher flashes past us and the stormy skies overhead that throw sudden showers at us as we chug along. Sandals are a distant memory as we haul on our boots to walk Tricky, puddles have reappeared - we haven’t seen those all summer. Crunching through fallen acorns and picking the last flush of blackberries, pausing at a ‘humming hedge’ alive with bees and getting home to a warm boat and something that isn’t salad, for tea. I always look forward to being able to cook on the stove when the weather is cold enough. Food tastes so good when it has been simmering for a few hours and Carl is always hungry after a day on the tiller in the fresh air. We are glad of all the books we have collected recently, the forecast for the next few days isn’t looking great and we don’t envy those hardy boaters that have passed us today - soaking wet and battling to steer a straight course against the wind that whips across the fields.

Autumn Ploughing

That’s about it from the floating wood store - now that we are too posh to store our wood and coal on the roof, I am very worried about where it will end up next. I have already given up the ‘shoe steps’ - the stairs have hidden storage and are right next to the stove, a warm spot that doubles as a spare seat when we have visitors. The shoes have been relegated to another, less accessible cupboard, down by the bed and the steps are filled with kindling and small logs.

High bridges on the Shroppie

Soon be time to pack up the boat and head for home – I must start my ukulele practise again, I can't wait to get back to the secret strummers – you know who your are (wink wink emoji).

Take care till then.

Love from
The Floating Chandlers

PS It's been a great week for spotting Kingfishers and I even managed a rather blurry photo. You can just about tell its a Kingfisher but nothing can capture the way your heart leaps when you spot one.