The luna… erm, nb Snowgoose… was at anchor on the Venetian Hire Boats & Chandlery services when the Cardinal and I hove up to the lock landings. He adjusted his pince nez, shook a little fist at me and shouted ‘your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries’ and then something about filching (I think he said ‘filching’) some diesel and two shots of Redex.
Naturally, I offered to duff him up – um, I mean to work him up through the lock, but apparently he’d made prior arrangements with a local peasant who was heavily in his debt following a weekend Strip-Dominoes Tournament. Aforesaid peasant was kind enough to limber up for the task by working the Cardinal up through the lock, thank’ee most gratefully. 😉
Naturally I offered the chap a substantial tip.
I told him never to squander a double-six unless you’re within three moves of the end of the game and/or you’re wearing two pairs of socks.
Caution was thrown to the wind (and it was relatively breezy) and we exited the lock to not some little G-forces concomitant with high accelerations, the better to distance ourself from the Purple Person. A well-trimmed narrowboat will do 0-3mph in under five seconds.
The 0-60mph test was begun in 1926, and is still underway.
Anyway, I digress. We’ve encruisinated again, as you will have gathered. Eight miles and a smidge this time, two locks (wandunforme thank’ee) and the veritable Full Service at Calveley, returning to a comestibles drop at our favourite comestibles drop point, this rather surprisingly being listed as ‘Comestibles Drop Point’ in my Bradshaw’s Canals and Navigable Rivers of England & Wales.
Naturally, I was just untying the ropes to move when Canal Company Ltd parachuted in a “spotter” to log me and mine. Quite where he’d come from at that time on a Monday morning I could not say. I’m semi-serious about his having been dropped by pashamarute. The Canal Company Ltd aren’t any more fond of dissenting voices than are the “government”, and tend to “oh, just routine” them to death on occasion. I routinely have an inordinate number of occasions, rarely to my benefit.
The it of it all was a tad more breezy than one might have wished for, but t’was a pleasant cruise-ette for all that. Not too cold, and just the one spot of rain. I mean a shower, that is, not a single raindrop.
There were a couple of clowns (out of circus uniform) moored slap bang in the middle of the wharf at Calveley, but we dropped hints by edging the Cardinal in on their stern button, his r-send hanging temporariliment substantially over the private moorings. Once they’d finished powdering their noses or whatever it was that they were doing, I edged the Cardinal up to the bollards-of-choice.
During our stay in the Far East (nr Aqueduct Marina) we took advantage of a mild snap (that’s like a cold snap but in reverse) to tickle Stove and Flue.
Mr Stove was asked to open wide and say ‘Aaaaargle aargh’ for removal and checking of flame-trap and fire-bricks. You just can’t buy fun like this you know.
Also as part of the re-positioning plan, Messrs Fuel Boat BARGUS went over and above, out and about of their duty, coming past the junction to deliverate coal and kindling to me, and then reversing back onto their route. Thank’ee Jason most kindly, tis much appreciated. 🙂
The Under-Secretary for Bloody Silly Situations asked me to ensure that I had sufficient sockpiles (sic) for England’s powder stations (sic). I think that he may have kissed Diane “Croatia” Abbott MP.
Ten bags ought to see the country through March.
The Purple Lunatic? His boat-brakes failed, and he sailed involuntarily through the staircase at Bunbury, while the Cardinal and I did our customary “sod that for a game of tin soldiers” volte face at the winding hole. He’ll be somewhere off the coast of Iceland* about now. He generally is.
NB., other supermarkets are available, mention here does not endorse implyment.
That’s been it really, and quite enough it’s been.
None of these photographs above are available in my Fine Art America shop (as prints, canvas prints, mugs and even jigsaw puzzles) but many other such are. I am thinking though of perhaps uploading the images of the stove flue, before and after.
Do please keep on keeping on (if only to irk and provoke ire), and whatever else you do, please ditch the bloody televisions and stop soaking up what the gubbermunt is ordering the mainstream “media” to tell you. Use that throbbing grey-pink blancmange between your ears.
The good news is that by dint of my VPN and setting my “location” to Mexico City I can still have my customery customary morning read of Russia Today and Sputnik News – as part of my wider and cynical sampling, averaging, and kernel-extraction of the utter b*ll*cks that we’re being fed.
IGH., of Ugh.