Reflections..

27 Dec

100_0886Good name for a boatie blog.

But this isn’t that; it’s just what I do at this time of year – me and millions of others I suspect – reflect on the year that’s passing.

I hate to be negative but 2016 hasn’t been a great year, one way or another.

I lost a brother.

Countless celebrities lives ended – we lost such a lot of talent in 2016, many of whom were great inspirations of mine. I suppose we tend to see them as immortal.

Several of my friend’s husbands have been unwell, some having received that diagnosis we all dread. Another friend has suffered throughout the year with infections that the antibiotics struggled to kill. They eventually manage this and now he has to face surgery for renoval of lumps from his chest. And a very dear friend of mine is sruggling with hairloss – most distressing.

I wish them all well for 2017 and good luck with their treatment

And I received a dodgy diagnosis of my own: something called Scleroderma or Systemic Sclerosis – a rare auto-immune disease – which is incurable and needs careful monitoring and management. At least it’s nothing common! Rare = interesting to the medical profession, so at least I’m getting plenty of attention.

It probably won’t kill me but then again it might.

Then there was the trip to South Africa, which saw me in hospital for three days on intravenous antibiotics to treat a nasty chest infection – picked up on the aeroplane I suspect. Not quite what I had hoped for and competely putting the mockers on the holiday. That said, I haven’t smoked since so some good came out of it.

And on coming home, to add insult to injury, the wheels really fell off…

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The wheels bloody well fell off my carzy carrying trolley. Bugger. However, I should soon take delivery of a new, improved and generally much butcher version. Pics on next post.

Then, the chimney I’d ordered (partly to cheer me up and partly as a Christmas present for Hobo) didn’t bloody fit…100_2935

Double bugger. My fault of course – being a girl misinterpreted the measuring instructions. Easy mistake-a-to-make-a.

Still, the lovely man I ordered it from will replace it (even thought I’ve used it) with the right size for just a small fee and the cost of postage. It’s a company called Smokie Joe’s up in Derbyshire and they produce some pretty spectacular chimneys and cowls – IMHO. First seen on another boatie blog – thanks Steve.

Will post pics of the correct chimney and cowl, once received and fitted… you’ll be impressed, promise.

2016 has been a funny old year, politics in particular: Brexit. Trump. Corbyn. Strikes.

But my friends, be happy and look to the skies…100_2928

Keep the faith.

Seasons Greetings..

25 Dec

from Hobo…

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Wishing you all the very best this Christmas time. May peace and joy be yours.

BB xx

 

 

Homeward bound..

8 Nov

Time is coming when we must make another move and our thoughts turn to how the hell we’re going to get back to Cape Town and the airport.

Normally, we’d have a longer stay – three times longer. Normally I wouldn’t have got sick. Normally we’d have spent more time at the bus and liberated the car from storage. Normally we wouldn’t have spent a small fortune on car hire. But it’s been a funny old trip.

However, I’m not complaining. And what is normal anyway..?

There’s been some definite high spots and we did get to spend time with friends and family. John’s Dad is doing just fine and he and his welfare were after all the main purpose of our visit. And I will be travelling home under my own steam and not in an urn, as John at one point feared.

So… how are we going to get back to Cape town?

There seems to be a couple of options:

  • Cadging a lift to the bus with Geoffrey and Minerva as they are – sort of – heading that way at – sort of –  the right time. Then it’s just a matter of getting a ride over the mountain (an hour’s drive).
  • Splashing out more cash on car hire and travelling many, many miles to visit a virtual friend of mine up at the Pilanesberg National Park and possibly even run in a visit to John’s other son, Conrad, now at a private game reserve near Hoedspruit, at the same time.  Time would be tight but it is just about do-able and I’d really love to meet Tony for real, as would John.

Naturally, the latter is the most appealing, even if it is not the most sensible. We have a prolonged shall we?/shant we? moment, then decide to check if it fits in with Tony and…

It doesn’t – our dates being the only ones when he can’t accommodate us, already having visitors then. Bugger.

Decision made then. Shame, but that’s timing for you. We’ll make a plan for our next trip for sure. And that’s a promise.

Here we go then…100_2888

This is the transport they – tactrac – use to ferry their victims trainees around and, now they’re all dropped off, there’s plenty of space for us two.

Do click on the above link to see what they do. Very interesting.

We break the almost 500 mile journey with a stop at Paradise Beach, where Minerva’s parents have a place. Here, John gets to go a’hunting for and removing those nasty bad snares, with Geoffrey and co, while I chill out with the girls.

And Jasmine…100_2885100_2822

Aw..  a gorgeous Miniature Schnauzer. Seven weeks old.

We overnight, once more, at Rudi’s who is conveniently placed around the halfway point.

There is an ulterior motive…100_2887

John wanted to buy the kids one of these for their lovely home. And we managed to utilise it on the journey.

We’ve done this trip loads of times but I never tire of the view…100_2899100_2897100_2906100_2894

Ostrich…?

Yep.

And I still love those Clarice trees. To bits.

Fast forward and we’re at the bus. Looking a bit forlorn and neglected but so would you if you’d been left alone for two or three years. Nothing a bit of TLC wouldn’t sort out.

I’m very fond of the old bus but, sadly, we’ve no time to spend here. No time to get the power or water hooked up so…100_2908

This is the way we brew up.

And what on earth sort of spider made this web..?100_2913

Some sort of mutant that I sure as hell do not want to meet. Ever.

That aside, I wish we had longer here.

Friends Rosemary and Piet, who  live up a mountain, took pity on us invited us for a braai and gave us a bed for the night. Lovely people.

Piet drove us round his farm and showed off his new venture – he’s always busy and doing something.

Holiday homes…100_2919100_2917100_2915

He and his son have got the building of these down to a fine art and they are superb. All have fine views and none overlooked. Internally they are brilliant too – sorry I didn’t get a pic. Those that are finished are booked up well into next year.

Piet’s home, that he built himself and is constantly improving, and surrounding land is lovely…100_2921

As is the fybnos there…

It smells delicious too.

Turns out they have to be in Cape Town on the same day we fly. Sorted.

John often says that things will sort themselves out. Seems he’s right.

We board the big white bird, me clutching my huge cache of drugs. I’ve even been prescribed an inhaler – just in case and only to be used in emergency.

What could possibly go wrong..?

Things can only get better..

6 Nov

While I do my time – three days and nights – at the Plett Mediclinic, John continues with a much-modified plan and sees our friends onto their aeroplane bound for Blighty. He then returns as far as Knysna (about a half hour away from the hospital at Plett) and stays over at friend Rudi’s place, just outside the town on the road to Rheenendal.

I’m due to be discharged the following day around noon so John duly pitches up to collect me. John settles the bills I’ve racked up (because I’ve managed to get my cards frozen due to consistently entering the wrong pin no – I really wasn’t well) and then I’m free to go. Free is not the best word to use here mind; my stay was actually extremely expensive. But of course I am worth it and, not wishing to critisize our wonderful NHS, I wonder if they could have cared for me so well and in such a timely manner. Besides, I am hoping the insurance will cough up (how very fitting) once I get the claim in.

So, I’m out, feeling much, much better, though perhaps a little more mortal than normal. Final diagnosis was a chest infection and not pneumonia so am thankful for small mercies.

We head once again for Rudi’s, via a pharmacy at nearby Sedgefield to collect my mega amounts of muti, which should keep me going.

Rudi is a very talented chap. He made these…100_2779100_2781

Such workmanship. Stunning.

It’s all in the detail…

As these insets show. Love ’em.

But his first love is sculpting and he’s really churning it out now. His current favourite subject being his Great Dane Ziggy…

Incredible. As ever, click on image to enlarge.

And here’s the real thing…100_2886

Ziggy, in the flesh, more a small horse than a dog.

We overnight and spend the next morning here, a great visit, then it’s off again to PE.

The ever-so-special Evelyn takes it upon herself to look after me…img_20160923_093734431_hdr

All part of the recovery programme. Also making my breakfast, coffee and biscuits and anything else I need. I want to take her home with me.

John reads about solar powered cars that are travelling from Jo’berg to Cape Town via Port Elizabeth so this we have to see. We assemble ourselves at the beachfront car park where they’re due to pitch and wait. It’s blowing an absolute hooley (typical of PE – AKA windy city) so our walk on the beach was a little worrying – I’m well wrapped up but afraid I might be blown away!

We’ve no idea what to expect but are truly blown away when they start arriving…100_2808100_2806

They’re quick!

And on display in the ‘paddock’…

100_2813This one was our favourite…100_2810

More practical, with space for two seats and panels inside…100_2812

A Polish entry.

You got to love this one though…

An old Beetle with a random solar panel strapped onto a roof rack..hee hee.

Some team action…100_2799

Re-charging…

And the innards…100_2805

Not sure about the driving position…100_2804

And these things travel on the road!

Hell of an entourage though – horns, hooters, flashy lights – real African style.

Speaking of African style…100_2785

This epitomises Africa really.

We saw this on the way to Sundays River mouth, which turned out to be very special indeed. We were charged a nominal entry fee – enough to keep out the riff-raff – and after a bit of a drive…100_2829

There was this…100_2832100_2833100_2834

100_2825Almost otherworldly.

Easy to think you were at the seaside…

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But no, it’s a river mouth…100_2860Special eh?

It’s a huge site with walking trails, picnic/BBQ areas, pool, kids area, holiday cottages, fishing and so much more. Probably best to let the pictures do the talking for a while…

And I adore the Prickly Pear…100_2869

Look like big flat feet with lots of toes…100_2851

Toes that burst into flower…100_2876

Wish we’d been a bit later, when in full bloom.

But needed to be earlier for the Aloes…

Just past their best before date.

A heron before John drove at it…100_2835

And after…100_2836

And this is Kudu dung..100_2875

Apparently.

Sundays River…100_2874

A great place.

This has been our transport…100_2840

An ancient Toyota Venture.

And this…100_2879

Is where I want to live.

When in PE..

5 Nov

So  why were we in South Africa at the end of their winter/start of spring and before the sun has properly got its hat on? Or indeed why did we leave a delightful, warm autumn in the UK when another couple of months would have ensured we missed a gloomy, cold winter at home and pretty much guaranteed long lazy days, much hotness and suntans?

Why oh why..?

Back in July, John’s dad, Terry, had a fall and broke his hip. Bugger. A subsequent hip replacement operation had reportedly gone well…oh, and he turned 90! John’s sister flew out there in July to put some help in place, re-jig the living arrangements and generally organise whatever was necessary .

So our visit to PE was all about seeing how he was doing a month down the line, spending some time with the old feller and doing whatever was necessary to make his life easier.

Pleased to report that he is doing just fine and came to meet us when we pitched – walking without a stick, let alone crutches, zimmer frame or any device we’d assumed he’d be needing. I think the twice weekly pilates – that he started aged 80 – has stood him in good stead and, probably, already being very fit and active, considerably aided his recovery.

To the point where he can, with care, still manage the 39 steps to the street…100_2795

Well done sir!

John did a few little practical fixes as required and desired but otherwise Terry, with the help of the lovely Evelyn who called in most days, was still fairly independent.

All of which meant that we could go and do what one does when in PE…

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Addo Elephant Park.

And…

Bay World.

We did the beach, ate out and showed our friends around the area, doing the tourist bit. The two Johns work in aviation, so a trip to the SAAF Museum was not negotiable.

And this particular John jumping into this old war bird was inevitable…100_2773

An Oxford. Go here if you  are also an aviation nut interested to read more about this and/or other historic aircraft they have there.

We spotted this at N2 City,  the local shopping centre…

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Crowd control? Mobile dentist? Inflated ego?

What do you reckon?

Since we were last there, the flamingos have moved in opposite…

John wanted to sling bricks at them to make them take to the air but I wouldn’t let him in case of injury/arrest. Would have made a brilliant photo though…flying flamingos that is, not the John being hauled off to jail.

All too soon, it is time for friends John and Jake to head back to Cape Town for their flight home, their ten day break almost over and we decide to drive back with them, along the garden route, and  put them on the plane.

The plan was to make this journey over a couple of days, with the odd detour thrown in for sightseeing, visiting friends and generally letting them soak up some more of South Africa.

And we could go see the bus on the way back. Great.

But we all know about the best laid plans..

Despite much cough medicine,  hot water bottles, early nights, paracetamol and talk of witch doctors, my chestiness was getting worse and, on the morning we set off, Boatbird was seriously struggling for breath, feeling dire and actually turning blue.

Involuntary euthanasia was considered but it was (thankfully) decided that  a doctor be found en route…

The doctors at Kareedouw – a waiting room, but not as we know it.

By now I’m panicking like crazy clearly distressed at being blue, breathless and a bloody big burden to my travelling companions.

As is John…

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Not.

Long story short, I was seen by a very nice lady doc who stuck me on the nebuliser and, suspecting pneumonia, told us to go to the nearby hospital in Plettenberg Bay where she’d organised x-rays.

Very scared now, I paid the doctor’s fee and off we popped to Plett.

I was X-rayed, admitted, put to bed and stuck on a drip before you could say intravenous antibiotics; tubes delivering oxygen were poked up my nose, temperature and blood pressure measured, blood taken and  examination/interrogation performed by an eminent physician.

By now, I’m more comfortable and just happy to be being looked after. I’m in a private room, that costs £200 a night (and that’s before doctor’s fees, meds, pathology services and so on) with top class en suite facilities, regular meals, radio, TV, slaves on demand and Loads of Attention.

I  surrender myself to the expertise of the experts and the nurse’s tender ministrations. I may as well make the most, relax and accept my fate.

It is what it is and there’s precious little I can do about it.

                                                                                                                        to be continued…

Boatbird flies south..

26 Sep

It’s been a while, as faithful followers will know, since I last darkened the doorstep of sunny South Africa. Five years to be precise. So I was well ready for some sunshine and looking forward to meeting up with old friends, seeing familiar sights and generally being back here.

We (that’s me and Boatbloke, his friend/co-worker, John, and his son, Jake)  flew into Cape Town on the 9th – minus our luggage and, in my case, plus a stinking, snotty cold. So a good start..

The briefest of re-unions at the Bot River Hotel…100_2733

Not a great picture but, trust me, some terrific honky-tonk piano by the barman going on here.

And a great headline when the hotel changed hands…100_2732

Also a rubbish shot but reads: Next generation takes over the reins in one-horse town. Brilliant!

Hopefully will get back this way and spend some time, check out the bus etc).

Anyway, long story short; picked up cases the next day and headed off in our hire car to **Touws River, where John’s youngest son, Geoffrey, was busy training the latest influx of wannabe anti-poaching rangers. This is a gruelling process, involving much PE and running to the top of the mountain and back, managing their supplies (to be carried on their back through the bush) and generally following instructions.

It’s quite a facility  here and we were given the full guided tour in this…100_2735

Saw this and thought of you Graham Harris!

It was used in Bosnia by the paras, and just the job for the terrain here…

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There’s a wild animal cleverly hiding behind the rear view mirror…honest.

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But in safe hands with Geoffrey at the wheel.

Our friends, John and Jake, were even allowed to have a go on the shooting range with both shotgun and pistol – both proving very useful with both. I could have had a go but didn’t want to damage my reputation of being a useless female by out-shooting them, so declined.

Geoffrey gave us a demonstration of making fire…100_2739100_2741100_2742100_2743100_2744And I swear the braai tasted all the better for it.

Geoffrey and girlfriend, Minerva, have a lovely home here , designed by her father (and Geoffrey’s boss) Marcus. It’s a round house, is perfect, and comes complete with a herd of dogs…100_2738

Two of which are captured here.

We stayed over at the house of Marcus and Hilary; Minerva’s parents – another superb house, also designed by Marcus.

Next day we head for Port Elizabeth and John’s father, deciding to take in the odd dirt road to break the monotony of the N2…100_2748100_2747100_2746100_2745

All good fun.

One of Boatbloke’s shortcuts, even if it did add several hundred ‘klicks’ to an already long journey.

By now, I am wheezing and hacking away like a good ‘un. Anybody think I was a heavy smoker or something…

We wend our way towards PE…100_2731100_2730Spotting the obligatory baboons.

And Arriving at PE in time for a sun-downer or two…100_2765100_2764

With that glorious backdrop of the Swartkops river estuary, as viewed from John’s dad Terry’s house.

The beach is a short walk away and it’s Indian Ocean here in the Eastern Cape, so chances are it might be warm. Or not…

Spring has only just sprung so temperatures are not those of mid summer, which it has always been on my previous visits, but more like 20 something. The sea hasn’t had a chance to warm up and feels bloody cold to me. That said, the spring flowers are delightful…100_2790100_2791100_2792

Even more so the roadside blooms, which I hope to be able to feature soon. A shame we missed the aloes – looks like they are just going over.

Fires still burn in the living rooms at night, when temperatures drop into the low teens, and I’ve not had a lot of use for the shorts and flip-flops that I optimistically packed. Yet.

But I have made good use of the electric blanket. Well, I’m a sick bunny don’t you know.

**It wasn’t until I saw the road sign that I realised this was the spelling. It will be forever known to me as Toast River.

The best of the bunch…?

8 Sep

Could this be the best pier shot from Tuesday’s girlie get-together in Southwold…?

001I rather fancy it is.

Well done Bob Finch for this one, taken with my camera and cropped by me.

It’s not only good, it’s the only pic I have of the day. That’s because, unlike popular practise these days, we were so busy having a fine time that there was little time for recording it.

A special day for us all, as we started at Wellingborough High School together 50 years ago and have remained in touch, despite being a bit far flung nowadays, largely due to facebook. Much maligned, but it clearly has its uses.

And three of us – Higham Ferrers girls – go back even further.

To HF junior school…scan0040

Second row: 1st on left and 5th from right. Third row: 3rd from right. I wonder if you can match the faces then and now..?

Some of us were lucky enough to stay over and meet again on Wednesday morning for more coffee, cake and chat. And that was great too.

I loved the time we spent together and think we all turned out just fine, despite all youthful attempts to do otherwise! I love you all.

A special thanks to the brave blokes who tagged along, fetched and carried coffee and cake on the pier and drinks down the pub – and picked up the tab too. Heros one and all: Bob, Chris and Dave. I’ll hear no more bad about you.

Only kidding..!

And big thanks to Sharon, who had produced incredible portraits and presented each of us with our own spookily brilliant likeness. Very talented lady.

So girls, till the next time, keep going, keep smiling and, most importantly, keep in touch. With luck, there will be a few more of us next year when Jude is over and maybe we can pick a date that suits all. Never easy.

But for me now, South Africa is calling so that’s where my next post will be from.

More soon xx

 

 

 

 

Oh Brother…

10 Jun

I have some great memories of my brother…IMG_20160610_0001

scan0029

IMG_20160610_0001 (3)Brother Dave.

Ever so slightly bonkers, totally outrageous, generous to a fault, hopeless with money, practising hypochondriac, pathological liar and a mincer of note – yep, a raving queen. And, back in his day, that was illegal – punishable with a prison sentence.

I think this sometimes made things difficult for my other brother, who followed him through school. You can probably imagine.

But he made my childhood magical.

He left home when he was about fifteen, given his lifestyle – out and proud even then, but when he reappeared from time to time (to borrow money or recover from the latest mystery illness) we’d have fun.

Dave always bought me presents, something daft usually, like a long string of bright yellow plastic poppets – remember them? Not the chocolate nibbles we scoffed at the pictures, but huge, brightly coloured beads that snapped apart/together with a very satisfying click, so you could lengthen or shorten them according to mood/outfit. 1950’s bling.

And anything that was made in Hong Kong.

We’d have adventures: in the attic to find treasure and get covered in dust, sending me down the sewer when the rods wouldn’t do the trick – really.

We built a fabulous snowman in the winter of 1963…scan0028

His virulent green, hairy jumper was cut up, stuffed and fashioned into a gonk. And, one day, he cut a leg off my dad’s best pin-striped suit trousers to turn into a pencil skirt for me to dress up in. Dad was on the large side; they didn’t call him Big George for nothing!

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Of course, I loved dressing up…scan0034scan0035

Taken in secret with an old box brownie we found on one of the attic forays,  at seven years old (says so on the back of the photo). The ensemble was completed with a pair of my cousin’s stilettos that brother ‘borrowed’ for me.

Looking at these, I could have had a whole different career!

We’d play old records – really loud – and he taught me to Charleston and do the Black Bottom…great to swing the poppets to.  Or we’d sing along to America – da-da-da-da-da-Amereecah, da-da-da-da-da-Amereecah – at the top of our best hispanic- type voices. West Side Story I think.

And he’d laugh out loud – way before these days of LOL – boy, could he laugh. He’d be heard all over the old house as he watched That Was the Week That Was on the tele  or listened to Round the Horn or The Goon Show on the wireless. He died his hair all manner of colours and painted anything that didn’t move. Gold usually.

My parents didn’t have a car, so I never went anywhere that wasn’t in walking/running/biking/roller skating distance. Until Dave brought home a new boyfriend who did have wheels!

Then, for the first time, I went to the seaside…

scan0128

L to R…my best friend, David’s boyfriend with the car, and a chubby, young BB

Skegness. What a treat. If you forget I was car sick that is.

He had a lot of friends, some from the nearby USAF base, and one gave him this…

003004001

An original Zippo!

I acquired this beauty, aged about nine, when brother taught me how to smoke. I still have it – well battered now – but a much-treasured possession, and probably the reason I can’t completely kick the smoking habit.

As I grew up and started to bring home boyfriends of my own, he was the secret test they had to pass. On meeting my brother, they were judged on their reaction; one physically assumed the ‘back to the wall’ position and sort of whimpered a bit. He didn’t last long.

Always up for a bit of mischief, one day when a friend and her brother came round, brother David minced through the room – camp had nothing on him. My friend’s brother laughed so much that he slid under the table. Hilarious. Of course Dave didn’t mind – mission accomplished.

But my brother has gone and died, and it’s set BB reminiscing. So many memories.

As a child, I always sobbed when he went away and now he’s gone and left me for good, I’ve shed some more tears.

We had a suitably silly funeral for him last week of which I think he would approve. If not, he will haunt me.

Oh brother…IMG_20160610_0001 (2)

Really Immature Poofter.

 

 

 

Vernal Equinox

20 Mar

I couldn’t wait for spring to begin

When daffs are yellow and mood is mellow…100_0650

The days are longer, the sun is stronger

There is no doubt  that the mud will dry out…006 (14)

Meaning less welly boots and lots of green shoots

Now it’s starting to start and lifting my heart

Restoring some pep; a spring in my step

Boats reappear as they do every year…004

What could be wrong with floating along?

And I really oughta get out on the water

I’m longing to cruise and shake off the blues

That come with the weather and being a’tether

There’s no earthly reason with the new season

That Hobo should be still stuck on the quay…022

So let’s be a boater and fire up the motor

Chug off down the river the tiller a’quiver

So there’s cleaning to do; much maintenance too

But won’t let that delay, me getting away

I’ll dust off the crew, boatbird’s cap too…Picture of me 1

It’ll be great, me and first mate…DSCN1437

Back in the groove and back on the move.

Ran out of rhyme…

So here’s to spring – says she, glass in hand. Happens every year but still I marvel at lighter mornings and longer days. It never ceases to delight.  I think it’s all those gloomy, short days and lack of daylight that, come March, has us longing for change.

And the mud. Anyone who lives or spends time in the countryside will appreciate how it can get one down.

In my case, there’s the trek from boat to car (and vice-versa) across what I lovingly refer to as dog-dirt alley. Wet winters mean constant mud, bogginess, flooding at times and forever climbing in and out of wellies.

No matter how hard I try, the gloop always wheedles its way into the car, onto the boat and somehow gets onto my clothes too. The thought of going out and back without having to don/shed layers of clothes and changing in and out of rubber boots fills me with joy. Can’t wait.

Last Thursday was the first time in ages that I went out in normal footwear. Didn’t last but, hopefully, a sign of things to come. Soon.

Mustn’t grumble though. The old Morso Squirrel stove has, as usual, served me well, kept me warm and cheered me up. It’s also pretty damn good at boiling a kettle, simmering soup/stew, toasting crumpets, warming the wellies and drying the washing overnight…

Toasy

But every silver lining has a cloud – it also makes a lot of mess so soon I shall have to start on the spring cleaning. Washing ceiling, walls, curtains – anything that doesn’t move really. I did buy cheap, throwaway mats this time so once the weather properly improves they are all in the bin.

So I shall be busy, one way or another, but be back soon.

Elsan-ity restored..?

31 Jan

I’m hoping it will be.

My last blog post, a bit of a mild rant about (the lack of) facilities available to London Boaters, pleasingly produced quite a bit of comment and creative thought. If you haven’t already put yourself through this  read through this thread, you can pick it up on the LB facebook page entitled Shit Happens.

And, if after you’ve trawled through all the comments and ideas, you also feel you have something constructive to contribute to the debate, please do read on.

A few of us have decided to get together to brainstorm this, with a view to forming a ‘working party’ to collate ideas and form firm, well-researched proposals that will be presented to C&RT. Kate Saffin, Alex H. Richards,  Colin Ives, myself and John will be at the department of coffee at Spitalfields Market next Wednesday (3rd February) at 2.30pm.

http://departmentofcoffee.com/locations/spitalfields-market/

Helen Brice and Mikaela Ldn Mooring Ranger have also been included in conversations so far – for information purposes – though they are more than welcome to attend. Neil Boat, another keen contributor to the conversation, is unfortunately unable to be there.

So if you too feel you have something concrete to contribute, why not come along on Wednesday..?