Walkies was a tad later than is usual today, even with the clocks having gone sideways at the weekend for British Simmer Time or Daylight Slaving Hours or whatever it is. Still, we (brain, body and I), managed to get a bit of exercise in before most of the world was awake.
The canal is clear twixt the boat ahead and the railway bridge, and quiet beyond that until the visitor moorings above the lock, so there I walked. There are five boats moored on the VMs, a bit huddled together for my taste, but each to their own.
I keep trying to think of ways to be of help in all of this, but mostly at the moment it boils down to keeping out of the world’s way and actively not adding to the problem. It depends how bad this gets and how long it goes on for, I may have skills that will come into demand. Right now though I am incredibly grateful to local businesses, the fuel boat, and boating neighbours – thank you.
It’s all hurry up and wait, don’t get in the way, don’t add to the woes, and look out for any way to be useful. Pandemics don’t half put things into perspective.
The local farm is uber-busy in a cycle of mooing cows and moving lorries. There are trains still running but they are occasional and far fewer than is usual. Other than that the world is very quiet, having been handed back to Father Nature. Honking geese, quacking ducks (and their echoes), splashing cormorants and small birds tweeting far beyond their boxing weight.
The weather is a tad more dull than of late (boo et le serious hoo, seasonal affective dysfunction here I come) and Mr Stove is confused because it’s very cold in the dead of night but almost too warm during the day. He is being kept in because that’s easier than some evening ritual of re-lighting. Yesterday I gave the flue and chimney a spot of a raddle, just to try to help keep the fuming peace.
I gave anyone watching me this morning my extended Palace Guard routine – up and down the gap between boats (I don’t want to keep marching past other folk’s homes at this time). Perhaps three hundred yards, back and forth, back and forth, like a hamster in need of a wheel.
The canal was flat calm then, and the sky just beginning to wake up and get dressed.
I wish that in the midst of all of this unreality there was one, just one, wholly reliable, utterly dependable source of proper news on what is really going on. The not having a clue is almost as bad as is the problem.
Wouldn’t it be great if we got 99% less “news” but the 1% remaining was the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me Vicar?
My German provider of emails and a couple of domain names has just invoiced me for the coming twelve months – I hope that they know something that I don’t, and that their optimism is not ill-founded.
Because Mr Stove is lit still lunch is cooking itself today. You’ll never guess what it is so I’ll tell you – rice and a vegetable curry.
Mr Stove and I have done this once or twice before during this winter.
Chin-chin for the mo, Muskies.