Church Bells and Yoga

 Happy Monday Morning from the metropolis of Berkhamstead

We've squeezed onto the last available mooring in this busy town and even managed to find a good spot with the sun on our panels, which makes Carl a happy Captain - loadsa power.

This week we have travelled from the Egg Mooring in Milton Keynes to the Duckling Moorings here in Berko (that's what the locals call it). Mummy Duck was taking her brood of 9 along the line of moored boats and almost everyone stopped to watch. I was deep in conversation with some lovely Australians that I'd adopted at the last lock but I couldn't concentrate once I'd seen the ducklings. I'm smiling as I write this - lambs last week, ducklings this week and yesterday, finally, we saw our first Kingfisher of the year.

I've had a few queries about the Egg this week - I should have realised not everyone watches George Clark and therefore quite a few of you hadn't a clue what the Exbury Egg was all about. It was built by a man who wanted to commune with nature and built this egg shaped floating home so he could be 'at one' with his surroundings. If anyone is interested in reading more then have a look at www.everythingcomesfromtheegg.com I couldn't help thinking that his showering facilities left a lot to be desired and don't ask about the toilet unless you have a strong stomach.

On Monday, we moored by the bridge/lock in Fenny Stratford for the obligatory trip to IKEA - more of this later. I may have mentioned this lock before, it's unusual because it has a swing bridge across the middle which has to be opened before boats can enter the lock. It can cause a bit of head scratching the first time you have to go through it but I feel like an old hand and I lift the handle and swing the bridge with ease.  It's only when I need to swing it back that the I'm in trouble. I push and heave, trying to get it moving - nothing happens. Eventually, I walk to the other end of the bridge and find a hook preventing the bridge from closing accidentally - well, fancy that! Pride goes before a fall and all that jazz.

The highlight of the week was a trip to Bletchley Park on Tuesday. It's a short train journey away from the moorings at Fenny Stratford and well worth a visit if you're looking for somewhere interesting to take the children/parents over Easter. I think most of you will have heard of the Enigma Code but there's a whole back story that's captured in the huts and secret bunkers of the museum. You can try your hand at code breaking in the many interactive displays or you can hear the real life stories as told by the people who actually worked there. Some rooms use the magic of live images projected into the room where the stories really happened, you could imagine yourself actually there. We loved the vintage cars and motorbikes on display in the garages and left the wonders of the Enigma machine till last and weren't disappointed.

We've made the most of this lovely weather, travelling through Leighton Buzzard and Marsworth, reaching today's mooring in Berkhamstead in glorious sunshine and soaring temperatures. It's busy here and I prefer the peaceful mooring we had on Thursday in Slapton. It was a one-boat spot with nothing to disturb our peace except the distant thrum of trains and a wren composing her own rhapsody from the hedge. It was warm enough to sit out with my crochet and Carl got on with one of the never ending paint jobs - there's always something that needs painting. Today, we're in the thick of things on a busy towpath - a never ending stream of prams, wheelchairs and walkers are vying for space with cyclists and runners. As I struggled up the Marsworth flight yesterday, baring my lily white arms for the first time this year, a group of Lycra clad ladies whinnied past, pony tails of lustrous hair bouncing and flicking. They were managing to talk and run at the same time and were skimming along the path on tippy toes, making their daily exercise look effortless. Tricky and I watched from the shade as we waited for the lock to fill, I don't know which I envied the most - the ability to run effortlessly or the long glossy locks.

Did I mention that we popped into IKEA this week? It's always a treat for Carl (yes - really!) he likes to stock up on batteries and I like to browse for innovative storage solutions. I'm trialling a stick-on caddy for the bathroom to hold the shower gels and shampoo. Carl says it will come unstuck but it's been a few days now and it's still up, so I'm hopeful. I'm most delighted with a little clock (Lottorp)that tells the time and temperature and has an alarm and timer function. That's how I know that most mornings this week it's been colder than a fridge inside the boat and, in spite of this lovely warm sun, it's still only April.

The village of Northchurch was a welcome sight yesterday after 11 locks taking us up and over the Tring summit. We're now starting the long trek down to London and the Thames at Brentford. We moored below the lock, in front of some very desirable properties with huge extensions and acres of bi-folding glass doors, making the most of their view across the valley to the village below. The bells were ringing out from the nearby church, which we quite liked until it became obvious that they were going for some kind of record. They stopped for a break about half past five then rang continuously till 8pm by which time we'd tuned into a Tony Blackburn podcast before Carl turned into Quasimodo!

Quirky floor in Ollie Vee's Cafe

I almost forgot to mention our trip into Leighton Buzzard, a lovely market town that still retains some English charm, a handful of independent shops and a really quirky cafe called Ollie Vee's. The decor is a mixture of jungle chic and vintage vinyl and as we settled at a cosy table for two, Ella Fitzgerald began singing 'Every Time I Say Goodbye' from the elderly record deck. The two ladies at the next table joined in and so did I - it's a beautiful song but very sad. The ladies were replaced by a couple of likely lads - one arrived on a vintage Vespa scooter and breezed in like a latter day Mod looking for his lost youth and the other came in with a swollen head. He soon told us all that he had a blocked saliva gland which had caused the whole of one side of his head to swell. It didn't go down too well with my orange and poppyseed cake but that's the price you pay for quirky!

Carl sends his regards and says he'll write soon but he's got hay fever at the moment so please can he be excused until his eyes stop watering.

Love and Hugs as always

The Floating Chandlers

PS Walking along the towpath from Slapton, I was surprised to find a couple laying down on the towpath. Ey Up, I thought. It's a bit early for hanky panky. It turns out they were doing Yoga!! Not seen that on the towpath before.

He's sworn to secrecy - Bletchey Park

Marsworth cottage

Marsworth Church

Thatched Cottage on the Grand Union

Barge with a view - Marsworth

More painting -  Marsworth Junction

Library Bletchley Park

Lambs, Eggs and Boat Brain

Morning All

It's a lovely sunny afternoon here on the Grand Union canal - lots of boats are passing by as the Great Linford Cruising Club flotilla return to base from their weekend jaunt to Cosgrove. They've had a nice weekend for it - sunny and warm with no sign of the hail and rain that was forecast. I'm sure we did better with a bit of old seaweed. 

St Peter's Church

 We're moored by bridge 75, which is quite close to the ruins of St. Peter's church, for those of you who know the area. It's a pleasant stroll from the canal and we three set out with camera and notebook to find out about it. I took some photo's in the late afternoon sun and noted that the place was literally humming. The walls were alive with bees – I think they're called Masonry Bees and they were intent on getting into every crevice of the remaining ruined walls. They're a bit like the bats in our own village church - unwelcome visitors! Purely by coincidence, we met a couple who are part of the Save St Peters Church group and they were very knowledgeable about the history of the church - we wouldn't have known about the 'Leper's Squint' or heard about the Lord of the Manor, Sir John Witterwong - what a great name, although I'm not surprised that the name, like his church, has fallen into disrepair.

We've had another breezy week for boating, not our favourite weather but the sunny afternoons have more than made up for that. The early mornings have been chilly - too cold to get up until the fire's lit and the cabin is warm. I'm very lucky that Carl allows me the luxury of staying in bed until the stove's blazing - he has a new saying now - 'Happy Wife, Happy Life'. I'm not sure if he's being sarcastic or not but I'll give him the benefit of the doubt as I don't want to take over the fire lighting duties.

On Monday we moored at The Wharf in Bugbrooke and met up with our friends Terry and Liz for a catch up over drinks and dinner. We found ourselves joining in with the pub's Quiz Night - we did quite well considering that at least two of us were tipsy, one had just finished night shifts and all of us have 'boat brain'. This condition begins when you step aboard a boat and leave all your cares behind you. It makes you so relaxed you can hardly remember your own name and causes the unwary to fall asleep at every opportunity - now where was I? Oh yes, the quiz night - the last round was for a cash prize of £48 and we thought about entering but we're glad we didn't when we heard the question 'How many dogs were entered into Crufts Dog Show this year?' - the answer slips my mind now, it was something like 23, 839 and we were nowhere close! That damn boat brain again!

We had the luxury of a car trip into Northampton on Tuesday, in search of an oil filter for Terry and a supermarket for us. We indulged in fruit loaf and coffee in Sainsburys cafe in order to fortify us for Mission Almost Impossible(nice fruit loaf but it tasted strangely of garlic). After getting 'The Computer Says No' from Halfords and PartsRUs or some such nonsense name, Carl remembered about Parr's, an old fashioned place with people who had real knowledge and didn't need a car registration number to find the right oil filter for a boat. Back in Bugbrooke, we puttered off in the sunshine, sorry to leave Terry and Liz behind on such a perfect boating day but needing to get to Gayton for the usual conveniences.

On Thursday we reached Blisworth ready for my trip back to Rugby to pick up my specs. I was saved from a four hour round trip by Richard and Mel who drove us there for a jolly day out. We visited the very beautiful Rugby church, the Art Gallery and Weatherspoons while we were there then it was back to the boat for 'Fat Rascals' and tea in the late afternoon sunshine.

First thing on Friday morning, we went through Blisworth Tunnel, meeting a couple of boats but passing them without incident, much to my relief (and Trickys). We had to wait a while for a work boat to exit the top lock and then they shared the next lock with us. It was then I discovered I'd lost my long handed windlass. I must have left it at the last lock at Buckby when it was raining so hard and I was struggling with the gates- it's a nuisance, as it's my favourite windlass and the 'spare' is a monstrous thing that looks like something you'd use to tighten lorry wheel nuts with.

I soon cheered up as we worked our way down the Stoke Bruerne flight and chugged on towards Grafton Regis. We found the perfect spot for an afternoon of scrubbing the cratch cover and polishing the windows and when that was done, I spent a happy hour watching the lambs jumping and wiggling their tails while Carl tinkered with his box of nuts,nails and screws. Simple pleasures but I defy anyone not to smile when they see a little lambie skipping.

Our View

We arrived here on Saturday and intended to chug off this morning until we heard that the Exbury Egg was just around the corner and was going to be open for inspection today with the owner and artist Stephen Turner on hand to talk about his creation. I've seen the Egg on George Clarke's Amazing Spaces and thought it was worth hanging around for a look. From the towpath, it looked smaller than I remembered but once you step inside, it's wonderfully spacious and roomy. The lady who organised the bringing of the Egg to Milton Keynes was a vivacious lady with purple hair and a matching optimistic approach to life in spite of needing crutches and a 'chariot' herself. We do meet some really lovely people on our travels.

The Exbury Egg

Inside the Egg

As usual, I've rabbited on for far too long so I'll sign off now. Have a lovely week everyone and I'll write again next week

Love and Hugs as always

The Floating Chandlers

PS Mel and I saw a grass snake on the towpath in Blissworth - we both screamed so loudly, it shot off the towpath and into the water just to get away from us. I was convinced it was an Adder but it had a yellow collar which makes it a Grass Snake and therefore quite harmless.    

Bridge 75

I'm trying to be artistic here

Now That's Magic

Hello again from the cosy cabin of the Lady Aberlour moored in Weedon

Drying out

The pub across the way is full of Happy Mothers celebrating their Day in style and the tow-path by the boat is busy with families walking off their Sunday lunch. I'm so glad the sun is shining again, I've had enough of the rain this week. I'm sitting in my usual spot in the cabin with a happy Tricky dog by my side – she's happy because there was sausage for breakfast. I'm happy because we've had lots of visitors this week and that's taken my mind of Wet Wednesday when we came down Buckby flight in the pouring rain and we all got soaked. I must have looked a sorry sight when I popped into the Whilton chandlery for milk. I dripped over to the counter to pay and I could see that the lady was horrified by my wetness and for once, I was too soggy to be cheerful. We moored in the first available spot,once the canal veered away from the M1, and Carl stoked up the fire so Tricky and I could enjoy our afternoon nap. I was too tired to care about the state of the tow-path when we moored but when Tricky went out the next morning, she paddled through the mire before jumping back aboard with four black feet. Have you seen the Flash advert where the white dog comes in and shakes mud everywhere and the lady of the house waves her magic Flash and makes it vanish? Well, it's a big fat lie! There was mud everywhere - on the radiator, on the just washed dog blanket, on Carl's grumpy chair and doggy footprints all the way through the boat. Nothing in a bottle will ever sort that out!

Flore Church

We've been in this spot for a few days now, there's a proper footpath and a lovely walk through the fields and across the river Nene to the crumbling Flore Church. It looks very pretty when viewed from across the valley but when you get closer, the beautiful sandstone is very worn and a notice on the doors warns of falling plaster from the ceiling inside. We have so many beautiful churches in England and they're our landmarks as we travel along the canals, part and parcel of our boating life. There is another beautiful church at Braunston - on Monday, after a showery, blustery day we walked Tricky from our mooring at bridge 90, through the sheep field, up to the village. The wind had dropped and the late evening sun came out and lit up the church and made a wonderful reflection in the stained glass window. I whipped out my phone and took some photos, not really expecting that I would be able to capture the moment but somehow I did.

The best part of being afloat is waking up in the morning and knowing that the whole day will be spent doing the thing you love most - boating. If it's raining, we're disappointed that we might not be able to spend as long as we would like to on the tiller. If it's blowing a gale then we know we're in for a battle to keep the boat straight and for Captain Carl to not to shake his fist at the ******* wind. On sunny days, I hang out of the hatch while I wait for the kettle to boil, hoping to spot a water vole or a heron while I'm down at water level. We chug along drinking our morning coffee and listen to the birdsong, hoping for a Kingfisher but happy with the moorhens and coots. The fields are a never ending kaleidoscope of greens, everything from a lush emerald to a citric lime and any day now the rape will burst into its spring dressing of brightest yellow.

River Nene

You may wonder why we've been moored in Weedon for so long when I've just been ranting on about how much we love to chug. It's because from time to time, we need to leave the enchanted world of boating and rejoin the real world for musical entertainment and hugs with friends and family. We've had a lovely time this week, rocking along to K3 (thanks Richard, Mel and Kev) on Thursday, browsing the antique shops in Weedon on Friday and meeting up with Tommy the Toyota on Saturday. Tommy is my granddaughter's first car and we went off to celebrate nothing in particular with a meal at the Crossroads Hotel - this generated much mirth about Miss Diane and Benny and I looked in vain for Amy Turtle(I'm sure my older readers will smile at those memories but the young folk won't know what on earth we're wittering on about). As we waved them (Lauren and Sam) off after breakfast on Sunday, I wondered if they might have been bored. I also wonder what they really think about us living like hippies on a boat with a chemical toilet.

This week we'll be meandering down to Stoke Bruerne which isn't very far but we can't get on until I've picked up my my new specs from Rugby. By that time I'm hoping that my back will have recovered from heaving on a very stubborn gate on the Buckby flight – I knew I'd need the Ibuprofen Gel this week!

That's all from me for now. I hope all's well with you and that you're enjoying this wonderful spring weather.

Love from

The Floating Chandlers

PS I forgot the PS last week but it's OK, no-one noticed.

PPS We're moored opposite Sally Slapcabbage and I've taken her photo so you know I'm not making it up

I bet the new owners change her name

Spring Lambs

A Bit of Mutton

Braunston Daffodils

Wheres the pub?

Gas and Air

Morning All

It's a chilly, windy, March day here in Braunston. It's the kind of weather you'd expect for March but a little disappointing after the warm sun and gentle breezes that have wafted us along from Alrewas. The wind is blowing really hard here, turning the placid canal into frothing, rippling rapids that rock the boat and make Tricky so nervous that she wants to sit outside on the towpath in case we sink.

I didn't need any persuading to stay put today, we're only a couple of miles outside of Braunston village and I'm in no hurry to get there. The locks change from narrow to broad in Braunston and that's where the hard work really starts. I'm fairly sure that the rest of our journey to Bath consists of broad locks, river locks and lift bridges – some of which are notoriously difficult. I've got the Ibruprofen gel on standby! This week has been a lockwheelers delight – miles and miles of canal without a lock in sight. Captain Carl has been well supplied with hot drinks and Tunnock bars and I've had time to make scones and bubble up a casserole on the stove – proper boating fare. I've also had time to get to grips with Carl's camera and I've taken some photos that you might be interested in including a long distance shot of a spectacular white heron in flight. Has anyone else seen a white heron? Are they rare?

 

White Heron - Hawkesbury Junction

As it's still so early in the season, I've not quite reached my physical peak (no smirking please!) and I was sure I'd need gas and air to tackle the Atherstone flight (only eleven narrow locks). Carl promised me a trip to 'The Larder'(forties themed cafe) when we reached the top, which spurred me on and I skipped up the first two pairs. When we reached the flight of five, they were all empty, just waiting for us to open the gates and glide in. My luck held until we reached the last two and saw all the volunteers in a huddle at the top, guarding a lock full of water – I still don't know why. I expected they would see us coming and open the paddles but nothing happened. The Canals and Rivers Trust (what on earth was wrong with their old name, British Waterways!) are strapped for cash so the full-time Lock-keepers, that knew what they were doing, have mostly been made redundant and their cottages sold off. Volunteers are being recruited in some places, to fill the gap but they have a hard task to live up to the knowledge and wit of the old Lock-keepers. I'm always grateful for any help however and these guys couldn't have been nicer once they realised we were there – they opened and closed the paddles and gates for me and I skipped off into town for my much anticipated milky coffee and spammy eggs.

Nice clock Carl

The weather remained balmy for the run up through Nuneaton and it was so warm on Wednesday afternoon that I was able to walk Tricky without a coat (me not her). The tables outside The Greyhound pub were crowded with people enjoying the warmth and the Cheese Boat and the Wine Boat were both open for business from their prime moorings on the Hawksbury Junction. Of curse it was too good to last and it was back to gloves and hats when we set off the next morning. It was so chilly that Tricky kept running down to the stove for a warm – well, that might be because she was following me!

After a short chug on Friday morning, we squeezed into the last space at the top of the Hillmorton Locks so I could catch the bus into Rugby town. It's always an adventure trying to catch a bus from a place you're not familiar with – I can usually get into town alright, its finding the right stop on the way back that's often the problem. I thought I'd been really clever by taking a photo of the road name on the way in but when I showed it to the bus driver, he shrugged and said he'd no idea where it was. Luckily, I'd made friends with a nice lady sitting in the seat in front and she put me off at the right stop. The reason for my urgent trip into town was to find a Specsavers to see if they could prevent me from going completely cross eyed trying to break in my new specs. I've persevered for two weeks and it wasn't getting any better. Finally, after much discussion, they agreed to re-test my eyes and found that the right lens was too strong – its no wonder I couldn't see straight! This will be the third pair they've made for me – I hope it's third time lucky.

My sleep was rudely interrupted last night by the glass rattling in the bathroom porthole. I fixed that by bunging a wad of toilet paper in the gap then I couldn't get back to sleep because the wind was causing waves to slap against the stern and the barge pole was tap dancing on the roof. Carl slept peacefully on while I'm wide awake, conjuring up all sorts of ruffians and pirates who I'm convinced are about to break in through the hatch. I normally sleep well so I can only think it must be the book I'm reading about a detective who can see dead people – its a handy way of solving crimes apparently but it's probably not the best bed-time reading available. Has anyone got any recommendations? I've just finished reading 'A Cake Shop In The Garden' ( thanks Debz) It had everything I like – boats, cakes and a love story, much more my scene.

In spite of the wind today, spring has definitely arrived on the canals. On our walk this morning, the grassy banks were fairly sprinkled with purple violets and the hedges are coming alive with their spring greenness just as the blackthorns are coming to the end of their beautiful blossom. I've only seen a few lambs this year, but they didn't let me down when at last I spied some gambolling and skipping along the banks by the canal. The ducks are out patrolling the water and performing their yearly mating ritual. It's not a pretty sight - the drake pecks the hell out of the poor little duckette, stands on her back and tries to drown her – the poor thing seems to be under water for most of the performance, only popping up occasionally to quack pathetically. If you ever get tired of watching the telly, come out on the canals and watch ducks – I promise, you won't be bored!

That's all from me for this week – it's nice to be back.

Love and Hugs as always

from

The Floating Chandlers  

PS Here's a picture of a nice slice of cake especially for my sister Jenny - it was Courgette and Avocado with Pistachio and Primrose decoration supplied by the Papillon Cafe in Rugby - scrumptious.

Courgette and Avocado Cake from The Papillon Cafe in Rugby

Unusual window boxes on a cottage called Brighter Morn

Evening stroll

Bath or Barth

Our favourite mooring in Alrewas

A very Good Morning my lovely friends and readers of the Hedgerow Jottings.

Here we are, back on the waterways for another year of boating and I'm so excited to report that the destination for our spring cruise is Bath (or Barth if you're posh!) According to Canal Planner we are looking at a journey of 296miles and 250 locks which will probably take us about 3 months. I'll definitely be in need of a spa break when we get there!

Every year when we load up our little blue car for the journey to the moorings, I wonder how we will fit it all in. This time I really couldn't squeeze everything in and after a bit of head scratching, we decided to leave the enormous bag of wool behind. Three days later, chugging along in the sunshine, I thought I'd take a photo so I could share the delightful spring scenery with you. That's when I realised that I had packed the camera ever-so carefully in amongst the balls of wool. This is my brand new camera, the one that I spent weeks researching to get just the right one in order to make a pictorial record of our boating life. It's very annoying but luckily, Carl had packed his, so I can take photos but as yet, I can't upload them.

We always manage to leave something behind and if you're a regular reader you may remember that last year we went off without the tiller arm. I'm happy to report that the tiller was repaired and is back where it belongs. It's on the list of things requiring the application of Brasso and elbow grease as do the vents and mushrooms* (see below) which have all acquired a dull coating of winter grime. Each spring when we return to the boat there is a flurry of scrubbing and polishing to get our lovely boat looking shipshape - polishing the brass is one of the better jobs when you compare it with clearing the weed-hatch or emptying the Elson, thanks goodness for a handy husband.

We started off the week with lots of lovely sunshine and a warm, gentle breeze to waft us up the canal through Burton and Branston, to an overnight mooring in our favourite spot overlooking the tile factory. I know it doesn't sound romantic but the tow-path is good here which is a nice change for me and Tricky. When Carl cast off the next morning, Tricky and I set off to walk to the next bridge and were able to stride out properly instead of tiptoeing through boggy puddles. I reached the bridge (it's number 36 for you boaters who know this stretch of the Trent and Mersey – the impossibly narrow one) I hung over the parapet to watch as Carl swept through without touching the sides – I'm very pleased to say he hasn't lost his touch on the tiller.

We reached BartonTurns and stopped for water – mainly because I've been washing everything in sight since Tuesday.  It takes a little while to fill the tank, so I wandered up to the lock and opened the paddles to let the water out ready for Carl to bring the boat in. While I waited, I started chatting to two ladies on the bridge above the lock and I climbed over the lock arm so I could hear what they were saying. We were rudely interrupted by the clanging of a boat hitting the bridge 'ole and ricocheting along before hitting the lock gates at ramming speed. Unluckily for me, the lock had just emptied so the lock gates flew open with me on the wrong side (ie on the watery side) causing me to vault over the lock arm like a champion hurdler. I don't think of myself as much of an athlete but I surprised myself, and my colourful language surprised the two nice ladies who wondered what was happening. The man on the tiller carried on into the lock apparently oblivious of the near miss I had just had and I stalked off back down the tow-path to find out what had happened to Carl. It seems Mr Lock-stealer just ignored the two boats moored on the lock landings and made a beeline for the lock, without checking to see if anyone was waiting. Its not a great way to make friends on the canal; we're generally a nice bunch and help each other out but I'm afraid I was a little upset at so nearly being thrust into the canal. I left him to do his own lock and I think he might have noticed that I was a bit miffed because he moored up and walked back to the lock and went over to Carl to apologise for jumping the queue – I'd have been more impressed if he'd apologised to me but I suppose I had my scary face on. Note to self – try not to wear your scary face so often!

I'm breaking in a new pair of glasses as well as a new laptop and that's not a great way to start the jottings season. I've had this pair remade once but they're still making me squint and I'm tempted to slip back into my old ones and give up on them. Is it just me? Does anyone else have this much trouble getting used to new specs? As for this laptop – its supposed to be faster than lightening and with a whole Pterodactyl of memory (mind you, it has a great spell check – who knew that was how you spell Pterodactyl?) I won't be beaten by Windows 10 although I would welcome any suggestions from anyone who has tamed the beast.

Tonight, we're moored in Whittington with only 22 miles and 11 locks completed so far. Carl is being very gentle with me, I started with just 1 lock and gradually increased every day – I'm up to 4 locks and a swing bridge today which is hardly anything really when I think of the the 239 locks still to do to get to our destination.

That's enough of my witterings for one day – I'll be back next week with more tales from the tow-path. Have a lovely week everyone

Lots of Love

The Floating Chandlers

PS Tricky has been wagging her tail this week – I think she's happy to be back in her usual place on the hatch but its hard to tell!

PPS * Mushrooms are bits of brass, shaped like a mushroom, attached to the roof to allow air to circulate. They need polishing much to often for my liking

Captain Carl in the weed hatch

Mushrooms or Toadstools?

Alrewas 

Alrewas Churchyard

Fairy Gulls

Morning World

Have you missed me? I've missed writing my weekly witterings and getting your emails full of news and chat and I'm so happy to be back aboard our lovely 'Lady' and chugging up the Trent and Mersey once more. We decided we'd had enough of broad locks for this year, so the destination could only be our favourite sausage centre – Alrewas. It's not a long journey - there are only 6 narrow locks between our moorings and Alrewas but even so, we spread the locks out over two days – no sense in rushing is there! On the first day we seemed to encounter those annoying treacle people at every lock. I'm sure I've mentioned them before - they creep everywhere on tick-over and can't seem to grasp when the lock gates have opened and they can bring their boat out. They stand there gazing into space before finally easing the throttle up and edging very carefully out of the lock. I'm gritting my teeth and biting my tongue in case I should accidentally spit out some words of encouragement and spoil both our days. The warmth of the sun on our faces and the promise of a few settled days soon lulled us back into the waterways world of calm and peace and we moored up and left the treacle people to it.
It's very quiet on the canals once half term is over, and we're happy to cruise along with only the ducks for company. The marinas are full of boats that have been bedded down for the winter and I wonder how many of them are kept as floating cottages, visited by their work weary owners when they can snatch a few hours away from their labours. When we had our first boat, Moonshine, we would be off every weekend, whatever the weather. We kept a folding crate in the utility room and during the week, I would fill it with things that we would need for a boating weekend. Clean sheets for the bed, suitable clothes for the weather and treats for the Captain. We'd be up early on Saturday morning, load the cat into her basket and zoom off up the motorway to our moorings. We always had to cruise the way we were facing so one week we'd go to Alrewas and the next we'd go to Shardlow. The first long trip we had was in 2007 – some of you may remember that it rained a lot that year. We chose to take our little Moonshine to Northampton up the River Soar. We made it there OK but heavy storms hit us on the way back and we were marooned in Leicester Marina for 6 whole weeks before we could make the journey back to our moorings on the Trent and Mersey. It almost put me off boating for good and we still avoid rivers when there's been a lot of rain. No danger of that on this trip, the river Trent is so low that we had to abandon our plans to moor on the riverbank at Wychnor. Carl wanted to touch up the paintwork and the bit he wanted to paint was below the level of the bank. Instead, we chugged on through the next lock and moored opposite the wharf. It's a great place to moor, right by the water point and the path is nice and wide so Carl could get on with his painting while I skipped off to the butchers with Tricky.

Our Sunday stroll along the tow-path this morning was damp and chilly but a Kingfisher streaked by and warmed our hearts with his piping call and that wonderful splash of colour which is twice as potent when viewed against the murky browns and greys of the dull morning. During our first few years of living aboard we experienced every kind of weather but the days I remember most are those misty, autumnal mornings with the low sun glinting off the black water and fiery trees creating a breathtaking backdrop for the grey skies

Fairy Gulls

. The sun was reluctant to put in an appearance this morning as we set off from Alrewas but, as we rounded a bend in the river, a flock of fairy gulls* lined up along the footbridge, silently saluting our passage as we swished past their roost then, as one, they all rose up into the air and swooped off across the fields. A willow tree at Wychnor had a gathering of long-tailed tits:they are nervous birds, chattering and fluttering in the branches, waiting for the next game of follow-my-leader to begin, then they too rise up and flit away across the fields.

Phew – I seem to have gone all poetic. Better get back to boating! I took a turn on the tiller on Friday and managed a perfect reverse into Shobnall Marina for fuel. I was surprised it went so well but I didn't gloat in case Captain Carl decides to make it a permanent arrangement - I fear we'd need a lot more paint as I tend to scrape along the sides a lot more than Carl does. I hardly ever steer – I much prefer doing the locks and, if you've seen me recently, you'll have noticed that it keeps me in great shape. That was, of course, an ironic remark.

I'm glad to say that I've not been idle on this trip while Carl has been busy painting, I cleaned the windows and polished away the black dots left by the dreaded Cratch Spider. No matter how many times I take them ashore they always manage to stowaway again in the folds of the cover or in the log basket. They are in for a jolly time this winter, I've made them their very own illuminations by scrunching a string of solar lights into a garden lantern and hanging it from a hook on the cratch board. Every evening the lights comes on and make a welcoming light over the bow doors, what a shame that only the spiders will see it.

Right, that's it from me – the batteries are running out and so am I. See you all for the 'Christmas Special'

Love as Always

The Floating Chandlers

PS

A naughty cocker spaniel tried to run away with the sticks when Carl was chopping kindling – Carl wasn't too bothered, he says its better that they steal it rather than giving it a soaking!

PPS

* I've no idea what make those fairy gulls are – they're the little dainty ones, perhaps some keen twitcher can put me right.

Running For Home

Morning All

A beautiful day

Now I've got my breath back, I thought I'd fill you in on events since my last Jotting. I can honestly say that it's a while since I worked so hard. I don't recommend the '50 Locks in Three Days' diet as a way of life, but it shifted a spare tyre and at least one of my chins as we raced back to our home mooring last week. Why all the rush? I hear you ask. Well, its the phone call that every boater dreads – someone very dear is taken ill and you want to get there as soon as possible. We set off from Market Harborough early on Friday morning, Carl on the tiller and Tricky and I trotting along the dewy tow-path, hoping that the weather would be kind to us. There was a crisp freshness to the morning and a Kingfisher flashed brilliantly along in front of us, wishing us a safe journey. I took this as a good omen and tried not to think about the hard slog of 50 broad locks standing between us and home.

I spent Friday morning pottering in the cabin as we chugged along, making a pasta sauce for later and downloading the practise shots I've taken with my new camera. I'm very pleased with it although, on reflection, I may have to refrain from taking 'bursts' of pictures. I have a great many boring, green photos with no central image. I did manage a panoramic shot, which pleased me no end, but I'm sorry to say I still managed to take pictures of my feet and some blurry butterflies which aren't going to make it into the family album. Thank heavens for digital photography and the delete button. Remember how we used to post off our films to Trueprint and get a folder of disappointing pictures back – I'm glad we've moved on from those days.

We managed 19 miles and 19 locks on the first day although we were flagging a bit by the time we caught up with Kevin and Nicola just through Kilby Bridge. Broad locks are so much easier with two boats and, with their help, we got as far as Gee's Bridge on the first day. I'm not sure they wanted to start off quite so early on Saturday morning but they didn't fancy the slog through Leicester on their own either so we all set off together, in the early morning mist, towards Blue Bank Lock. The sun came out and cheered us through the backwaters of Aylestone and the Leicester Mile was busy with rowers as we left Freeman's Meadow Lock and passed through the heart of the city. There were a few early morning drinkers hanging around Limekiln Lock and then we were through Belgrave and out onto the Soar, swooping along through the trees and under the bridges, speeding along with the current towards Birstall. Our boating partners left us here and waved us off as we slipped through the Water Park towards Thurmaston – we were sorry to leave them behind but there wasn't time to miss them as we reached the next lock just in time to join a band of pensioner pirates for the next part of our journey. A very sprightly 85 year old was celebrating her birthday and joy of joys – their hired boat was fully crewed. We made cracking time through the next four locks to Mountsorrel and I had time to dress Tricky in her skull and crossbones bandana and get out my pirate hat and plastic cutlass so I could do a bit of 'Avast there' and ' Aaaaar – Jim lad' to entertain the birthday girl. We left them giggling and chortling at the Waterside pub but we couldn't linger as we wanted to get to Zouch or further before dark. We pressed on towards Barrow-on-Soar where we met a couple of cyclists on the water, they were out for a back-breaking afternoon of pedalling on one of those floating bikes. 'That looks like hard work' I called out to them. 'We've been out since Tuesday - is it far to London?' came the reply. Well, you have to have a sense of humour to pay good money for a bike ride on the river!

Our luck still held as Barrow Deep lock came into view and we saw there was already a boat in the lock waiting for us to join them – the day couldn't have gone any better. When we finally moored just above Kegworth Deep Lock, I was wondering where I would find the energy for another early start especially as the weather forecast was for overnight rain with intermittent showers through the next day. I woke early when the rain started drumming on the roof and Tricky and I dragged ourselves out of bed and trudged up to the first lock. Neither of us wanted to be out so early in the gloomy drizzle, we both had wet feet and Tricky couldn't wait to jump aboard at the first available opportunity. I couldn't blame her and I felt pretty miserable too as we left the Soar behind and turned onto the River Trent. Sunday was the hardest day. I won't go into the dull details of broken paddles and queues at almost every lock except to tell you that the hi-light of our day was seeing our friends Pat and Malc – they came to find us in their car and helped us through two locks before whizzing back to the mooring to catch our ropes as we finally reached home.

I'm pleased to report that Mum is home now and getting on with things in her usual stoical fashion. We are staying with her and happily pottering around, admiring her lovely garden and putting back the spare tyre and double chins with trips out for coffee and cake. Our autumn cruise didn't quite go as planned but we have really enjoyed our trip to Market Harborough and back. We'll be hanging up our windlasses for a while so that's about all from us for this year. Thanks to all of you who have read 'The Jottings' – I shall miss you all and look forward to writing again when we cast off once more.

Love as Always

The Floating Chandlers

PS Just outside Foxton there is a house overlooking the canal with a Latin inscription on the gable which reads 'Sero, Sed, Serio'. I was curious enough to google it and the translation made me laugh, apparently it means 'We're richer than you' – well that's a matter of opinion matey!

A pretty bridge on the Market Harborough Arm

Lovely to have Ian and Di aboard at last - come back soon.

Translates as 'We're Richer Then You' according to Google  

Someone went for a dip and left these behind! We passed these lonely boots on the way and they were still there on our return.  

Captain Carl lends a hand with a heavy gate