Plebs and Valentines

I met Les from nb Valorie the other day as I was walking Sam and he had just arrived from being iced in for eleven days at Norton Junction. The last time I saw Les was around the Rugby area. We passed shouting who we were and he just looked a us confusingly. Not really a huge surprise as there is no sign writing on Pickles and we were expecting everyone whose blog we read to know us. Strangely he remembered this meeting as he mentioned it to me.

nb Hadar was also at Braunston but I never like knocking people up especially when the weather is so cold. You never know if they've just settled down and got the cabin warm and you're disturbing them. We'll see Jo and Keith next time.

The outlaws are up for their free pensioners Sunday lunch this weekend. They didn't turn up the other weekend as there was a little bit of snow around apparently.

We are moving to Hilmorton on Monday if we can convince Ken of the outlaws to do a car shuffle for us. As long as there's no snow around. Lisa and I rarely get the chance to move the boat together as at present we only have the one car and I'm certainly not using plebeian public transport.

Lisa and I did the usual Valentines thing this morning by exchanging overpriced cards in red envelopes and reading them aloud to each other in a loud, monotonous, boring voice. Well we would have if except Lisa hadn't forgotten my card. Incredible. If it had been the other way around there would have been a lot more of a vocal reaction than a grunt of acknowledgement from me that she was leaving for Daventry to instantly to rectify things.

Tickety boo

Reading through the narrowboat blogs, it seems that many others are iced in, flooded out, running out of water, finding local villages without facilities or in need of medical aid and dentists. In our little world all is well. When we needed water on Sunday we reversed 100 metres back along the unfrozen cut, when we needed supplies we jumped in the car parked thirty metres away on the bridge above out heads and drive to the shop in Braunston one mile away. We have no medical or dental problems and everything is tickety boo.

Pretty boring really. Just the way we like it.

I'm sick of snow scenes. Here's some more.

Sam with snow boots

Another day off for Lisa. These teachers don't do any work do they? On a news report the other day, someone from Coventry Chamber of Commerce was saying that schools should remain open no matter what and that teachers should get their walking boots on and walk to school then read stories to the kids that made it in. What a brilliant idea. It just shows how much the business community knows about education although they love to denigrate teachers and criticise the education system for the standard taught in schools (and so do many of you). Fourteen year olds would respond wonderfully to this kind of 'education'.Duck trails

I have been asked to report on the state of play with the Old Plough and can state categorically that absolutely nothing has changed and this can mean nothing but good. We had a boozy afternoon in there, a meal to boot and a more pleasing experience it would be difficult to have. It's the advantage of Lisa having caught up with all her work on the previous snow day.

Braunston turn

Well I may as well join the throng and post some photos a snowy canal boat scenes. Here's some photos of our early morning walk around Braunston. One is of the traffic chaos on the bridge above where we are. If only to justify why Lisa (teacher) did not go into work. I would say that the people who were in the traffic chaos were a little idiotic to even leave home but they would probably say that they were the ones that were conscientious and not work shy, unlike teachers.

Traffic mayham

Pickles at Braunston

Braunston marina

Braunston turn in the snow

Gosty Hill & NOBED

Gosty Hill passed today and I took advantage by buying my diesel for the month and a couple more bags of coal (just to support canal businesses as I didn't really need it). Obviously I'll only been using all the fuel for heating purposes as this is the only way that that Iain & Alison sell it.

Lisa was on a course today but she told me that on Monday this week, when the snow was lying on the ground, that someone at her school had written on the snow in large letters the word 'NOBED'. With a full classroom Lisa was repeating the word, "no bed, no bed why would someone write no bed in the snow." One of her pupils kindly pointed out what it really said, 'knob head'. After all those years of teaching they can still catch her out.

After having been on the Grand Union (Leicester Line) for several months it's a bit like Picaadilly Circus round here with a constant amount of canal traffic. It was unusual to see any traffic at all for days round that way but round here its very different.

I note that the pub, Admiral Nelson, by lock three on the Braunston flight, has closed it's doors to customers siting lack of bums on seats. I have never been in this establishment and have no idea whether it was a good pub or a bad one (and now I am never going to know). It's always a shame when historic pubs close and with the changes in drinking habits, increased taxes and the current economic climate this kind of thing is increasingly prevalent. Use 'em or lose 'em.

Sniping

Lisa was off today due to the early morning conditions. In fact she got all her backlog of marking done and the other work that she needed to do but had been putting off. I wondered around Braunston peering in all the workshops, dry docks and offices being nosy. I visited Midland Swindlers for bits 'n bobs to plumb in the Belfast sink, skin fittings and paint for the sides of Pickles. She will no longer look like a scronk boat.

I also got hold of the months coal allocation. I've just got to get the fuel now but since Braunston Marina does not allow self declaration I refuse to get it there so will probably have to wait until we move on to the next location.

I've been accused of sniping by Lisa today but we seem to have different opinions as the definition of sniping. Lisa is, as usual, wrong but she is unwilling to accept my obviously correct definition. It was me, after all, who got an 'A' on my English GCSE when Lisa merely got a 'B' on our Access course 15 years ago before we went to uni. So that gives me the right to define all definable language related thingys on this boat. Contributions of other definitions of 'sniping' from any other bloggers will be ignored by me, as will anyone not taking my side.

Braunston

Well you'd have known we were at Braunston if you'd read the last blog (that was actually written at Crick but published at Braunston. Oh, don't get all confused again. It's pretty simple really).

How come every time we decide to move, the weather is appalling (rhetorical question; no question mark). Today it started freezing and ended up snowing. I put it down to inflexibility on my part as, when I decide to move, there is little that will stop me including inclement weather, natural disasters, acts of God (what exactly is an 'act of God'?) or canal based terrorist activity. With the snow coverage, the lock sides were lethal (well, I am prone to journalistic exaggeration. Possibly a little slippery) and I did fall over, but only the once. I took it easy and did the Watford flight in an hour and a quarter. I only saw two other boats and some contractors vessels on the move. Most people are much more sensible than me.

Is Braunston Tunnel the blackest tunnel on the system? It ate the illumination from my tunnel light unlike any other tunnel I have been through. Well that's my excuse for zigzagging around in the darkness, bouncing off the walls.

We are at the end of the line here at Braunston just past Midland Swindlers and under the main road. The place is packed (I exaggerate again. It could be described as packed during the Historic boat thingy in the summer but not at the beginning of February). But we were warned that there were a few here when I read another blog which said so but I can't remember which blog I'd read it on. Lisa rang earlier in the day to say that school had been closed and she was looking for her home. I told her she would have to wait for another two hours for it to materialize as I still had Braunston Tunnel to zigzag and the lethal sided locks to complete. Lisa is very much hoping that the school will be open tomorrow so she can get on with all that marking. At least I think that's what she said.

Crack Hill and lost mobile

I haven't blogged for ages due to the dreadful signal and life was just too short to bother. We've already moved to Braunston but I've already written this so you have got to imagine that I'm still at Crick until I write the next one in a couple of hours (it's ok. I'm confused as well). We've got the outlaws free loading for Sunday lunch next weekend and we're not entirely sure where we'll be. Maybe we just won't tell 'em. Terri visited last weekend to pay the obligatory 24 hour visit to her old folks and Lisa never got out of her pj's all day.

I climbed to the top of Crack Hill (the local high point around these parts) and got a very good view of the local area. It's amazing how the canal meanders (see I told you I'd use it) around the countryside as it does. It's not surprising getting anywhere takes an age.

Since we have got hold of our Belfast sink I have come across several other free ones. Most are used as planters so I can't have them but there is one that I discovered semi-submerged in a stream not too far from here. They go for £100.00 on ebay so even if I don't use it it may be worth retrieving.

Lisa lost her mobile the other evening and the first thing we knew about it was when there was a knocking on the front of the boat. I went out to see who it was and a lady said that she had found a mobile on the tow path. She'd had a strange conversation with a person called Bob (seemingly for more info on the possible owner of the phone) and had concluded, with the available evidence, that we on Pickles were the owners of the phone.

Well that was a keen bit of detective work as the only Bob on Lisa's phone wouldn't have known it was Lisa's phone and there is no name on our boat. It just goes to prove that there are honest people around although we would've done the same.

Derwent 6 at the water point at Crick (fellow bloggers).

Belfast sinks & Crick confuses

We've now got hold of a Belfast sink, sometimes called a Butler sink. It's the full sized version and it's to be the centre piece of the kitchen (at least until we get the solid fuel Rayburn). I can't say where it came from as it's all top secret at present. Needless to say that it hadn't been used as a planter although it's purpose was possibly worse than this. We're not thinking about that right now. I just have to make the cabinet that it should fit on and then build the rest of the kitchen around it. How hard can it be to build a kitchen!!!

I walked up to the Co-Op in Crick this evening for wine and pizza. When I left the shop I turned right and marched with authority up the road (as if I lived there) about three hundred yards before realizing that I had gone the wrong way and didn't know where I was. There being some dog walkers around and not wishing to appear stupid nor having to ask directions (huge ego), I marched on with renewed vigour getting more and more lost until I had to admit defeat and retrace my steps, head hanging low. Stereotypical man.

Another two longbows finished today. Despite the poisonous timber used, I'm still alive. Lisa's quite pleased about that. I'm also starting to get orders again but I haven't updated my English longbows website and that clearly states that I'm not making custom longbows at the minute. There's no telling some people. So if you want one, sod off. I'm not making custom longbows at the minute.

Crick

We're at Crick now. A slightly later start this time as it was raining until 09.30. The canal side is dominated by the marinas and boat brokerages but the village is quite pleasant. The problem is that there's very little internet although, unlike Welford, all other communications are fine. I've heard that Braunston communications are also dreadful so that seems to be all around the southern area of the Leicestershire Ring. Still we can't get there until the stoppages have been lifted at Braunston Locks.

The journey was about as boring as it is possible to have on a narrowboat (which is really not that boring). The farm lands on both sides merely consisted of very large fields either ploughed or pastured, hardly any buildings and no settlements. Still, I got hold of some firewood.

This boat is at the entrance (or exit) to (from) Crick Tunnel. It was a lovely boat with a good paint job but what has happened? It looks like it was just moored up several years ago and has been ignored since and is now almost entirely covered in green moss, leaves, twigs and general debris. And before anybody asks, yes it does have a valid licence. There is a folding bike on top (covered in the same green moss) and it looks like you could just fire up the boat and off you go. What's the story here?

This is BW's new security measures for their valuable equipment. This tug was spotted sporting a bent fork securing the door. Well that'll fool them. I may even try this one myself. They wouldn't know what to make of it or couldn't pick themselves through laughing.

This blog is starting to look a little like some other blogs that just state where they are, how many miles and locks they've done. I'll have to see what I can do about that. Ok, I've thought about it...

Welford

We're here at Welford now since Thursday. Lisa left at 6.30 for work and I'd up'ed sticks by 6.45. Not a very exciting journey but it was a little hill'billy until the morning sorted itself out, the current bun made an appearance and the whole thing warmed up a tad. As usual, we met no-one else (I say 'we' as in me and the dog) which suits me just fine as it was too cold to take my hands out of my pockets at an attempt at pleasantries.

The Welford Arm is very pleasant with the one lock near the basin. The basin is also very pleasing and unmodernised (ie a muddy lane beside the mooring) although we are not used to being in the near proximity of so many boats as close as they are. Indeed one give me the evil eye when I was in the front deck emptying my ash into the cut. I prefer this to chucking it in the hedgerow as that always seems to me to be rather unsightly and ugly. Ash is used to seal wooden slats that are dropped in the canal to enable watertightness for the use at dry docks so I reckon I'm doing BW a favour in waterproofing their system. I got him back later when he was running his engine whilst in gear. Those evil eyes really are effective.

Andrew Denny from Granny Buttons has never had Pickles No 2 on his blog roll and I had assumed (as a conspiracy theorist) that this was deliberate and he had something against Pickles (and Pickles No 2 has never done anything to Granny). I mentioned this to Andrew and he came back with an instant response, an immediate apology and an amendment. Bugger. I wanted a conspiracy. Cheers Andrew.

We may move to a quieter area just back along the cut at the weekend or soon after as there is virtually no signal of any kind here. I'm very conscious about engine/generator noise which I normally run well after eight o'clock as there are rarely anyone else around us (that should annoy the 'rules is rules' brigade).

One of the timbers I am working with at present is Santos Rosewood. It had been in the corner of my workshop when I cleared it out to move everything onto the boat last year so I brought it aboard intending to make bows from it but I couldn't remember why I had originally stopped using it. Well I remember now. I'm allergic to it and since I was cutting it the other day my eyes are all puffy and have swollen up considerably. There are several bowyers I know who are allergic to certain timbers and this is not uncommon but painful nonetheless. Yew nearly killed one.

No photos due to the slowest connection we have ever had. And I mean EVER.

Small lads and horses

It doesn't take much to scare Lisa. Just before she goes to bed, mention that you can hear horse's hooves. Then mention that you think that you can hear a small lad talking. Then mention that you think you can hear some knocking on the side of the boat...

Was that a rustle in the bushes...?

Foxton Top Lock

We ran out of water on Saturday, were still frozen in and didn't want to move so we just didn't bother. Anyway, we were out at some friends house as it was my birthday and Lisa insists on celebrating it (although I can't say that I'm overly keen myself) although she doesn't so much celebrate but insists on constantly reminding me of my excessive years. It was a wonderful evening except that Lisa couldn't drink as she was driving. Our hosts Peter and Angela keep a brilliant selection of expensive wines that I thoroughly enjoy tasting, guessing where they are from (I'm never right) and getting excessively drunk. Talking of driving (was I?), the heater is now fixed on her car and Lisa is a much happier bod and almost enthusiastic about going to work.

Since the ice has melted we have now filled up with the required fluids and have moved to Foxton Top Lock ready for the off towards Welford as this would seem like the next logical stop. I think I'll see if it warms up a little later in the week and the rain stops. It rained all day today when I was doing the Foxton flight and there's nothing worse than water dribbling down the back of your neck and you're looking up to see another nine gates looming above you. Still, when you're doing them on your own there's little standing around waiting. I should have taken a photo or two on the flight but there was just so many other things to do.

I've given in to temptation, gone over to the dark side and registered on Tony Blews UK waterways ranking site. I wasn't going to and have resisted for a week now but I'm weak and couldn't help myself. Every other UK narrowboat blogger seems to be already there.

Winter nights

You can just see Randolph in the distance

Foxton still

The canal has ice four inches thick, it's minus thirty two outside, the snow is six feet deep, Randolph Fiennes has just passed the boat on a sled with a pack of dogs being chased by Quinn the Eskimo and we are as snug as a couple of bugs in a rug. Our Boatman stove keeps the front half of the boat toasty and that tends to be where we live. Talking of rugs, we have decided to make a rag rug and to that end require rags. I know that my wardrobe would do the job but what would I wear? We're even off the floor as we now have a bed. Whaooo!

We crunched our way down to Market Harborough to have a look at the weekend and check out the town. Very pleasant it all was but a little too civilized for our liking. I managed to turn the boat in the basin full of Canaltime boats, with a basin covered in ice without making contact although Lisa had to resort to the pole, just a tad. Well I have to make her feel involved when there're no locks around.

We are discussing next year and wondering whether to get winter moorings or not. We thoroughly enjoy this wondering lifestyle but Lisa has no heating in her car and the journey to school is getting her down a bit. I've booked her car into the garage to get it fixed and maybe we will make a decision. Then again maybe not.

We're back at Foxton, village this time, waiting for the ice to recede, then to Debdale for fuel then up the Foxton flight and onwards to continue our journey back towards the Ashby once again in about March time. We should have enough fluids on-board to last till the weekend.