Hobo time is a strange phenomenon that John and I are regularly subjected to when left to our own devices on board. We’ve just had another dose of it during the past week or so – ever since I picked him up from the airport in fact.
Not only is Hobo the boat tardis-like in terms of available space once inside but also capable of time travel. It’s true. I often wonder if other liveaboards experience this or if it is peculiar to Hobo, or us, or is some kind of odd chemical reaction that occurs between us all.
However it comes about, it has the effect of propelling us into the future, right from the very beginning of the day. We wake at the usual time, which is early if John is around – say 06.00. He makes tea, which we drink in bed, and all of a sudden it is going on for 10 o’clock. How does that happen? We get up, do breakfast, have a quick look at the paper/check e mails etc and, magically, we are transported into the afternoon. And so it goes on throughout the day.
That said, we’ve had a lovely time. Apart from the obvious joy of being re-united, we’ve actually (despite Hobo time) achieved quite a bit jobs-wise. OK, so if it hadn’t been for the World Snooker Championships being televised at precisely the right time, I know damn fine that my new digital TV would still be in its box right now, where it has waited patiently for the 12 volt wiring to be extended in order to power the aerial booster. But, thanks to Ronnie O’Sullivan and Co, it is now fully functional, complete with new slimline aerial and mast. A vast improvement and cosmetic coup – no trailing wires inside or outside as now all neatly concealed beneath the woodwork.
Neat eh? Aerial folds completely flat to the roof too.
This, together with several other small repairs and refinements that fall outside my strength or skillset, have made me a very happy boatbird. Not to mention how nice it is to have a man around when the river is up over the jetty, making comings and goings a little tricky and decidedly damp.
All good things come to an end though and John is once more installed into the treehouse, where he lives when not on the boat, ready to resume farming – weather permitting. When next I spend some time there I shall do a treehouse post but for now I include some pics I/we took from inside the treehouse and around the farm earlier.
Fabulous Fen skies…
Flocking Starlings…
Ploughing up the Gulls and Maris Piper in flower..
Percy the Peacock…
And Spring hedgerow…
I broke the 150 mile round trip to the fens and back with an overnight stay, returning to Hobo last night, where I am left to resume my work. Much of this morning has been given over to mucking out and restoring order from the chaos that John naturally creates. I’m not complaining, it’s who he is and, anyway, a little chaos in my life is good and keeps me off the OCD road, which I fear I flirt with. But I simply can’t live and work in a muddle as a general rule.
With the river flowing fast of late, water and towpath traffic has been minimal so the view from my window has had a bankside focus…
And the water didn’t stop here – yes, the jetty was totally submerged at one point and remained so for a couple of days. And the meadow was a total bog – wellies essential.
Plans are now being hatched for frights in the scary hairyplane – Goodwood, Isle of Wight, Cornwall, HusBos and Sherburn-in-Elmet and more – so watch this space for spectacular shots of English countryside and more…
Boatbird
Boatbird 
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