Saturday 2nd January: Garstang
On Friday after a slow start, we took the car back to Angela and she returned with us to the boat for a light curry. The freeze continues - it actually forced Nick to get up and find our visitor's bedding to pile on our bed during the night. A leisurely sociable afternoon was punctuated by Sheila (another Friend) and family walking along the tow path (at that point in time clear of treacherous ice) and her two grandsons were duly impressed with a tour of the boat! Rain started before dawn on Saturday, finishing with hail, sleet and snow, but the barometer kept rising and by midday it was fine but, yet again towpath and pavements were awful. I visited Booths and was delighted to be picked up from there by Patrick and Elanor who joined us on the boat for a late lunch. Elanor, now five was delightful and entertaining. She looks forward to seeing Caspar as much as us and was disappointed to find he was on Farthings Hook with his new special mate, Jamie, a three year old golden retriever whose boundless energy has infected Caspar to a degree. They play and romp around together on the towpath when the weather is dry and fine as it was yesterday. Now when we return to the boat it is often two dogs gambolling along the the path to greet us. All in all, a most satisfactory start to 2010 but there are no signs of this bitter weather easing. Monday 4th January
On Sunday morning Angela picked me up, again
on a bitterly cold but bright morning. Roads were acce Angela picked up Nick to collect gas and diesel this morning so now we have full batteries and a reasonably full tank to see us through the cold snap which we are told will last for the first half of January, at least. After coffee, and scones courtesy of the ever generous Angela, she disappeared and so did I to the dreaded launderette. I usually buy a paper in the convenience store next door but that was shut till the end of January and so I had a wonderful time watching the laundry circling endlessly. Back on the boat we had soup and garlic bread - an excellent soup marking the end of the Christmas pheasants, the stock which had travelled south with us and returned to Lancashire none the worse for wear! Thursday 7th January
Goodness, time flies while the UK freezes! It
seems we are having an easier time than those down south where they have
had a lot more snow, and at last our dear grandaughter
I'm afraid Gilly is responsible for a new practice - 'wobbly coffee!'- that is a morning coffee with a kick. (only allowed in exacting circumstances!) With Gilly on Tuesday morning it was maximo cheapo Lidl brandy, yesterday here it was Armagnac (classy but all we had!) and today, at Alan and Lynn's it was Tia Maria (classier!). I loved Gilly's boat - so entirely her - a long wooden table to allow largish family gatherings, free standing furniture, fascinating books and wonderfully naff Christmas lights and decorations. Well into her seventies and in her third year solo on the boat she has a fascinating and by no means easy history but remains joyous for the most part and spirited. Alan and Lynn's boat is sooo warm compared with ours (even with our new, noisy, blowing contraption!) I wonder how a narrow boat can stay so warm; having the wood-burning stove mid-way down the saloon has to help. Caspar and Jamie are becoming wonderful friends they romp on the tow path for hours; it seems Caspar has had a new lease of life. Tomorrow Lynn intends to give him a professional grooming.
Nick popped into Preston on the bus this
afternoon, and I popped up to town to get fish from a somewhat depleted
Garstang market. I enjoyed listening to Alexander McColl (of
Sunday 10th January
On Friday morning, Angela had
taken me down to the A6 where I was able to pick up a bag of logs (I
don't like paying for firewood but we don't have mu Monday 11th January As I sit here with a brew, and the last two scones (Angela!), one in my hand and the other about to come off the fire-top, I note that today has returned us to the worst of our lifestyle - grey and wet outside, though the fire is roaring and all is cosy inside. Jac has decided that her 24-hour escape will be 48, so I might get yet another undisturbed night's sleep. I was up at eight this morning: the dog's walk was one of the shortest for the towpath surface has been one of the worst - like walking on a surface of well-oiled ball-bearings. After a quick breakfast I went off with Alan for two hours of Badminton - I can't remember the last time I played (the last scone crunching and melting in my mouth as I type! ) and I was party to two winning games and three of the other. Because of the weather, the rest of the day has been spent onboard, excepting a twenty-minute walk across the adjacent field with Caspar. My next sortie will be across the cut to use the wi-fi again, after which it's bangers and mash, feet up, and TV. Tuesday 12th January
Jackie returned to the boat on Wednesday afternoon. I had risen too late to go with Alan for another session of Badminton, having worked on a revised front page layout for this website almost into the early hours. In the afternoon I went with Alan to Blackpool to see if I could help with a couple of problems he had at one of his houses: unfortunately, unsuccessfully, but there you are, nobody's perfect. Jac was back when we returned, having come with a stop-over at Angela's. With the weather changing from bright and white to grim 'n dim, there was little activity on Gloriana on Thursday and Friday though another run was made for diesel and logs, and Jackie went with Angela to Preston, buying the first instalment of Seville oranges for this season's marmalade which may be endowed with a touch of Armagnac: this will be for consumption only aboard Gloriana! In the afternoon, we again strung five hoses, total length of about one hundred metres, to refill the tanks of Gloriana, Farthings Hook, Gooseander, Bluestone, Dorothy Anne, Kara Sea (a soapbox, but we're charitable in our shared adversity!), and one more narrow which doesn't sport a name on its bow (though is now known to be Thursday's Child); the whole exercise starting at about two in the afternoon, with the final hose being reeled at about nine in the evening. This afternoon, Jackie is off, as Angela's guest, for a bit of pampering at Brooklands Country Club, to all intents and purposes a girls-only establishment and we have lost the snow and icy paths; it was strange being able to stride into town, rather than shuffle. Yesterday afternoon, when I walked the dog along the river the Wyre was 2 feet below the path under the bridge but today was higher than we've ever seen it - probably over 3 feet above yesterday evening - no way can you walk down there to access the steps. It was good to have Gilly on board this morning for a coffee and as I write this I have five and a half pots of marmalade cooling - no Armagnac - we'll start with a classic version! There is an inch of water over quite thick ice on the canal. Tuesday 19th January Still in place but there's little ice left in our immediate vicinity and what there is looks soft and/or thin, so Nick is seriously considering an attempt to reach the sanitary station this afternoon - important with just a day or two's ullage in the loo tank. Aagh! We've had a busy-ish time. On Saturday Angela took me to her health club at Brooklands - awfully smart, in lovely grounds with a surprising number of women being pampered with pedicures, facials, whatever. The pool was distinctly chilly but there was the largest warm Jacuzzi pool I've visited with plenty of space to exercise in warm water. We used the steam room, and the solarium (moderate, dry heat) caused us to emerge positively glowing! A lovely Meeting in Garstang on Sunday was followed by a visit to Bilsborrow for Sunday lunch and for Nick to do a few jobs for Angela followed by some decent TV back on the boat in the evening. Then on Monday afternoon Angela and I went to a gentile literary afternoon, the theme 'Renewal' with a group of eight or so people contributing - very pleasant. That was yesterday before a big clean-up on the boat -for'ard, and today, a concerted attempt aft. But I'm due for another visit to Brooklands this afternoon. And while Jackie was luxuriating at Brooklands, I did indeed motor down to the sanitary station, breaking ice only for a short distance though I had to back off and hit it two or three times before breaking through. Arriving at Moss Lane ( the location of the Sani Station) I was greeted by Jilly (Unchained Melody) who had driven there by road to dispose of rubbish: she took advantage of my trip by loading two or three bags of logs and a case of provisions aboard Gloriana for me to deliver on my return. This saved her five or six 600-metre walks from car to boat, so I was quite happy to do it. Perhaps I should have waited until they had gone before getting out and assembling all the paraphernalia required for the pump-out, but before I could start the evacuation, I had an extended discussion with three BW guys who were relaxing in their truck alongside the station. Having watched me prepare everything, and as I was about to start pumping, two emerged from the vehicle, one saying that I shouldn't be using the manhole; he said I would block the drain (the main drain to the sewer): the other introduced himself as the H&S man and asked where my barriers and sign were. The barrier was no problem because I always, and already had, set the manhole cover up to warn anyone approaching, and for good measure on this occasion, I added one of the locker covers from the boat: I said that as the person doing the work, I was acting as my own H&S advisor and that my risk analysis determined that line of sight with the open hole, only fifteen feet from where I would be operating was an acceptable alternative to a sign. They said I ought to be using the BW pump-out facility on site but could not provide me with a card to run it. When they again said I might block the drains, I drew their attention to the fact that what I was about to do would have exactly the same hydraulic effect as the aforementioned BW pump and that, from my previous professional experience, I was satisfied that the drain would survive the experience (or words to that effect). When I sat down and started to empty our tank, they climbed aboard their vehicle and drove away. Within the hour I was on my way back to our mooring, reversing for the final couple of hundred yards to deliver Jilly's consignment before moving on to our mooring and tying up with our portside to the towpath: this to allow access for a bit of maintenance tomorrow morning (if it isn't pelting down with the heavy rain forecast). Sunday 24th January: Garstang
Thursday 28th January: Lancaster
On Monday morning we set off after Nick had
done a mini-pump-out and Angela had kindly ferried him to get diesel,
and I had slipped into town for provisions. It was dry but overcast but
it didn't take much imagination to s We were lucky to find our regular mooring with its splendid internet connection. Sadly we have no TV - in spite of a strong signal and shifting the boat forward and back and turning it about, still we had nothing. Luckily Nick has installed i-player on my computer so I can enjoy some of the best/most popular programmes: so I'm not over-grumpy! And it was good to renew my acquaintance with Lancaster again. I went to an intimate mid-week Meeting for Worship - just 8 of us and this is regularly followed by a Jacob's Join (Bring and Share) which I must remember, should I go again on a Wednesday. I returned to the boat via the town to find a splendid market and, having discovered that my pension had been paid in, went into TKMaxx. Now, I have a rather puritanical attitude for the present penchant for designer handbags - the price of some of them I find offensive! However, I am also conscious of my image and the rucksack attached to me whenever and wherever I go. There are times when a capacious bag would serve for a small shopping trip and would even serve as an overnight bag on visits to Northwich. So I found myself looking at bags - hundreds of them. prices from £5 to £80! Most were far too fanciful and designer for my taste - one I especially liked was originally £180+, cost £79, so was dismissed. I plumped for a smart black bag with red stitching. Photo to follow when I next smarten myself up enough to do a photo-shoot. To complete the indulgence I tasted a freebie piece of Belgium chocolate fudge on the market and bought a bag of that instead of the usual bar of fair trade chocolate we enjoy regularly after our evening meal. I don't usually like fudge but this was exceptionally choclatty and not sickly sweet. And finally I bought a wild duck for supper - never had a wild one before and it was quite different to the farmed variety - less fatty, darker meat and delicious. Nick is travelling south today to sort out a problem with the Saniflow back in Hungerford. He just seems to attract the shitty jobs, poor Nick. The bonus, of course, is seeing Simon, Emm, Sean and last, but certainly not least, baby Joe! So, there's just me here till next Tuesday effectively. Sunday 31st January: Lancaster I was surprised to be awoken by a phone call from Nick quite early on Friday - how solicitous I thought. However, after a brief greeting it appeared that he was in a bit or a grump, having found his rucksack awash with marmalade! Now, there's a story behind this! I am always being accused of failing to secure lids while I regularly complain that he leaves lids off entirely. I put out jars of the seasonal sticky stuff to go south without checking lids but he might have checked lids before putting them in his rucksack! Anyway, poor Nick had a great marmalade clean up before heading off to deal with a shitty-poo clean-up! I have enjoyed a few days of cold and bright weather where the canal has slowly frozen. I've walked for most days on the circular walk past skipping lambs. Why, when David Archer is only starting lambing are there well-grown Lancashire lambs as well as the quite newly-born ? As we walk through the Millennium Orchard the sound of birdsong is marked. On Friday evening I found that my lap top determinedly dead so now I am without any form of media communication except radio and mobile phone. The bright weather is a bonus but the evenings are long and tedious. I continue to be impressed by the Saturday market and bought a bag of veg from the organic stall - potatoes, carrots, parsnips, a Savoy cabbage, a red pepper - £3! Brilliant value! Sleep is not so good while Nick is away - it seems I sleep better in a 2-foot space than when I can spread-eagle in 4 feet! On Sunday morning I took Caspar on my circular walk early and set off for Lancaster Meeting. This was a meeting for Worship when I feel so very privileged to be a Quaker. There have never been occasions before my time with Friends when I have felt such spiritual love and strength in those hour long Meetings for Worship. I had previously thought that a small Meeting might be more socially cohesive but this gathering of 50 or more people disproved that idea. A ministry from one of the clerks shared some extremely sad news about the untimely death of the son of one of its members. She was clearly feeling very emotional and the silence following was so laden with sadness and loving concern and support that it was palpable. There followed a further ministry on the subject of suffering and how tragedy can teach us what it is to be fully human and allow us to share our personal sadnesses and tragedies. The next ministry was on a subject that had been occupying the thoughts of many of us for the last day or so and that is Tony Blair's evidence at the Chilcott Enquiry. This lady shared my astonishment at how our shared Quaker values, such as those of truth and integrity, and our commitment to peace and conciliation had been so abused by Tony Blair and his dangerous conviction of being so entirely right in the decisions he made. More of this issue at the end of this entry. The final ministry after the sadness and seriousness allowed the meeting to regain a feeling of serenity - a recalling and reading of Christ's parable of the separating of sheep and goats and the questions of "Where were you when I was hungry, homeless..." etc. He suggested we should add a question asking "Where were you when I was grieving. Did you sit with me, supporting me with loving concern? He suggested that Quaker concern for the dispossessed at the Homeless Centre in Lancaster was fruitful. He had been talking with a local girl, Candy, whose chaotic lifestyle and behaviour had caused her mother to kick her out of her home, aged nineteen. Through the support of the Centre, Candy has now sorted her life. I return to a subject which has been preoccupying me. The dastardly Tony Blair. Yes, that is how I think of him. I have a fair amount of leisure time to read and listen on Radio 4 to commentaries on the present inquiry. Listening to 'Mock the Week' on I-Player and 'The News Quiz' I was conscious of the scorn and powerfully negative feelings that he engenders. Almost all the people who applied for tickets to be present on the day he appeared before the inquiry were exceedingly sceptical about his motives. Listening to 'Any Questions' last week, all the panel were negative and two points were made which I felt were important; one was that he, a Labour leader, allied himself with a narrow-minded, right-wing bigot of a USA President (whoo! that's not Quakerly - but where do I find 'that of God' in Bush or Blair? I'll work on it!); and two, it seems that he acted in an extraordinarily high handed way, freezing out many of the members of the cabinet. Then I remind myself that there was a vote in the House and, in spite of opposition within his own party, the issue was carried with the support of the Tories, apart that is, for a few astute characters like Ken Clarke. Now for an interesting consideration - my tendency to always see the other side. I have been considering just what life in the Blair household is like at present, and am feeling some concern - not quite so much for Tony and Cherie but for the children. How are they coping when they see pictures of banners with the two vowels of their names reversed. How is the charisma and astute political nowse that put him in Downing Street for twelve or more years, playing out at home now? How are the family dynamics, and how are his kids coping with their lives: Leo, at school and the others in their adult lives, at work and with friends? I guess things must be rather uncomfortable and I do feel compassion for them. An "annus 'orrible", I guess!
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