We Do Not Need Any Education

Although one must admit, we could do with an other brick in the wall.

I am well aware that few if any of you actually believe half of what I say and dismiss me as some sort of Moaning Old Fart, so I’ll let these photomagraphs give you an inkling, and just tell you that the boat in the middle nudged and squeezed in long after the Cardinal and the other boat were already moored up in place, and while everywhere else, as shown, was wonderfully deserted… The hickdead even tied on such that I had to dismantle part of my bow mooring chain in order to free it when I moved… I kid you not.

It should go without saying, but it won’t, it never does with some, so I’ll say it anyway, that we all moor nose to tail when needs be, at busy times, in busy places… but not when you’re just doing so because you’re a

lternatively-enabled in re being a pleasant human being.

Had a great belly-laugh today when skimming the “news” – apparently old Jug-Ears wants all of his peasants to ‘cry out and swear allegiance‘ not just to his own Fluck & Law(less)Ness, but to his heirs and graces, too. Jog on, Doris, and when you’ve jogged on, jog on some more until you’re back here, and then jog on again.

They really don’t seem to have Clue One, do they?

Is it so very wrong of me to have my grubby little peasant fingers crossed for some sudden ecclesiastical architectural discontinuation of Westminster Abbey at the moment and on the day? I mean, I’d be sorry to see the abbey a pile of rubble but, well, sometimes a building just has to “take one for the team”.

There has been a Disturbance In The Force this morning – a CanalTime boat has just passed the Cardinal at a most polite velocity indeed. Very disturbing, although not in the usual way. I was almost moved to open the side-hatch, shake a fist and shout ‘speed up, you hooligans’.

Yesterday saw a positive Disturbance In The Force, in the passing of a delicious steam locomotive and Pullman carriages on the nearby railway. No photograph; I was too busy ogling and pointing and muttering things such as ‘ooh, big train’ and ‘hmmm…’ The breeze was such that the classic trail of steam was – from my viewing angle – perfickly aligned along the length of the train. Some things just have to be watched and enjoyed, rather than phomatographed. 🙂

Work continues apace around and about Calveley, ready for the new Office Flowsnakes to move in. The par cark is being extended over all manner of shrubbery and tree. Just what the world needs now is more hardcore and tarmac, innit.

Someone’s knocked down one of the gateposts. Difficult to blame this one on ‘boater vandalism’, wot wiv da Big Machinery abounding around currently and all, yeah? Boaters will still have to boot the fill, so to spoke.

The slipway is clear of weed for as far as I may say the first time in eight years. Perhaps it is to be the “overflow car park”? Perhaps Mr Parrykins is to commute by company boat?

Work continues apace too on the other side (and only just the other side) of the railway line. Half a million quid’s worth of breezeblock, tarpaulin, plastic roof “tiles”, and uber-skinny roof-trusses. Lovely. Hint – the mainline railway line runs between that new wooden fence and the tips of that metal fence at the bottom of frame.

That’s about all that’s been occurring really. We’ve cruised a little, moored a little, will cruise again soon once the first of this month’s Bank Hodilay nonsense is over. The Vegetable Cages are full of spud and carrot and cabbage and onion and broccoli and cauliflower, all patrolling up and down the bars, awaiting their turn at The Slaughtering Knife.

Today, meteorologically, is a “ditchwater day” as in as dull as. Cool but not cold, breezy but not windy, grey and lightless. Typical for the season. I may light Mr Stove this evening, just for the cheer.

God save the king, eh?

I don’t think so!

Hip hip! To the bar! Hip hip! To the bar!

Just as a quick aside, does anyone have recent first-hand knowledge of the cornerstones and foundations of Westminster Abbey? I mean, do any of them even look ricketty? A tiny tilt to one of the buttresses, perhaps a slight unintended curvature to the roofline? An unexplained but promising fresh crack in either font, throne, or Stone of Scone?

Oh well, it was just a thought.

[Sighs, and exits Stage Left.]

We also don’t not need no thought control.

Just another breezeblock in the wall.

&etc.

Ian H., Peasant.