Hedgerow Jottings: 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