Deny this one too if you will, my dear dissembling, double-dealing, perfidious, mendacious, pecksniffian, weasel-hearted, Janus-faced Watery Wellness Trust Ltd.
Other photographs are available, but this one very carefully does not personally identify the gentleman, while he’s carefully invading my privacy by logging my home’s position in your rinky dinky database for any and all of your staff, total strangers to me, to see.
Pah, pshaw & phooey. Oh, and before you do deny it, know that I spoke, very politely and in very friendly fashion – as always, to the young gentleman as he was working his way through the boat numbers closer to the Calveley Service Area.
Spotted yesterday while I was awaiting the loving attentions of Messrs ASDA.
Messrs ASDA have a habit of arriving early and without warning, but yesterday they arrived late and without warning, which meant that I spent an hour and a half waiting atop Bridge 104 with a carnation in my buttonhole (no, dear American friends, I said buttonhole) and reading a copy of the Financial Times. Still, they arrived, which is wot was good.
However, one item had been damaged among my delivery. Can you guess what? If I mention that there were two bottles of Imperial Ming Dynasty Dark Soy Sauce in my order, and that I sent back one… half empty…
Oh how we laughed.
Guffaw guffaw guffaw. Yes indeed, guffaw. No, but seriously…
One item among the sticky loveliness of my groceries was a new-to-me old-fashioned Fray Bentos “Vegetable Balti” pie-in-a-tin. Once spotted, they had to be tried, even if only for ‘ooh Fray Bentos brings back childhood memories’ reasons, although the filling wasn’t veggy-table then, but very much dead-animally. Now all that I have to do is to work out how to bake the damned thing without the benefit of an oven. I’m thinking perhaps in foil in the ash tray of Mr Stove. We shall see. Needs must when the Devil cooks.
The weather being (almost) co-operative and this coming Monday the 12th being the kick-off for Wacky Races 2021 the Cardinal and I then mooched on a league or two. We’re mooching in these areas while Messrs Bank send out a replacement replacement for my one and only bank card, much since expired. Banks do not understand the word ‘boat’. This is surprising, since it’s a four-letter word, and one would imagine that banks would have heard all of those.
Anyway, another v.pleasant minor cruise according to plan, and an eventual mooring up. Eventual because the first time that I tied the planet onto the Cardinal it was to find that SMARTY (“Three”) couldn’t raise so much as a blip on the interwebnets radar. I put my boots back on, roped the Cardinal fifty yards farther along Yappy Dogs Alley, and we now have one whole bar of 4G some of the time. 😉
Rain began in earnest, poor Earnest, once I’d tied up for the second time, and a celebratory litre of coffee was brewed.
Only saw one other boat moving all day.
This morning showed early promise, but has since spoilt itself and turned drear and deadly-Dudley dull and dank and dismal.
That’s frost you can see on the grass behind the tree above. The it of the temperature was below the freeze of freezing overnight. Mr Stove had his work cut out for him, again, and met the challenge with phlogistonic ergs abounding, thank’ee kindly.
Things were more daylight-ish on the return of the stroll. Some familiar cruising boats moored about, snoring, and here a couple (either side of the boat in the middle, so to spoke) that have mooched out of the local private marina moorings (albethey on-line moorings).
I do wonder whether Messrs Marina-Dwellers – who seem oblivious – will ever cotton on that their habits of popping out on a regular basis “to the pub” or “to our favourite picnic area moorings” will put them outwith the Watery Wellness Trust Ltd.’s new ‘Licence Terms and Conditions’ from this month? I doubt it, I very much doubt it. The huffing and outraged puffing when they get their first ‘Have you forgotten to cruise…’ and/or ‘Make the most of your licence…’ threats will be something to see.
Just “popping around the corner for the weekend” on a regular basis is now verboten.
I shall not refrain from the giddy enjoyment of a sense of due epicaricacy.
And I did tell you so.
Talking of the suburbs of Rome burning, here’s one last photo for this post – you can never have too many moored narrowboats with smoking chimneys; stoves in the process of being woken up after a long, un-tended night-shift. With added swan…
So. what did I learn from yesterday?
- A chap can feel on the cold side of cool if he stands for an hour and a half atop Bridge 104 in the sometime rain sometime drizzle, waiting alongside his faithfull trolley for a big green van laden with broccoli and other magical items.
- Soy Sauce does not “go with everything”.
- In the propagation of interwebnetting signals fifty yards can make all the difference in the aether.
- Dassing pog-walkers don’t half give you funny looks when you’re dragging your boat along on the ropes.
Figs gave I none.
Now, about cooking that old-style pie for tiffin today…
Ian H., & Cardinal W., Still Spoiling It For Everyone, Apparently*.
*Four months so far of extremely unintellectual slog akin to wading through neck-deep treacle in the company of a distinctly pre-opposable-thumbs corporate ancestor, and we’re (finally) beginning “Stage Two” of the Watery Wellness Trust Ltd.’s Formal Complaints process, with only the Ombudsman and the All Party Parliamentary Group for Waterways then to go. Six months now after the six-month period they’re shouting at me about, four months after they actually deigned to actually tell me that they were shouting at me; thirteen months after the written agreement upon which they have decided to renege – and the licence that they are threatening not to renew expires next month.
The Watery Wellness Trust Ltd., just getting better and better at sucking the life out of the canals since 2012. They would have started earlier, but 2012 is when The Devil farted and they were formed.
Imagine British Leyland, but with the build-quality, design-excellence and managerial genius removed.