Comfortably crazy

The title is a boat name which caught my eye and memory yesterday. We moored near a very small village called Acton on the Welsh border ( obviously not the London suburb of the same name ).  Yesterday was what I call a stripagram day, hot one minute, cold the next, causing major wardrobe problems. Jumper on, jumper off etc etc. This morning is a definite jumper-on one, but also sunny with a blue sky. We passed the Llangollen canal turnoff very reluctantly, lack of time being the only factor.instead we remain on the Shroppie heading South, our rough calculations indicating we can make it in time for my all-important appointments via this route, thus avoiding yet more days on the Trent and Mersey canal, not one of our favourites.  Time will tell.  Another "healthy" day yesterday which is good news and Tardis Two continues to perform as she should, which is also very good news. Yesterday ended on a low note as I stupidly watched a TV programme on 9/11 and had also stupidly forgotten it was the anniversary of Lynne's brother's death last year. I don't "do" death and have always cried during sad movies, even pre-depression, which stupidly caused me to  mentally list sad movies, for which I apologise.

1) Beaches

2) The mission

3) Dances with wolves

4) Little Big man

5) The notebook

6) Schindlers list

7) Love story

8) The graduate

One of the most joyous days of my life, prior to "owning" Tardis Two, was to be re-united with my long-lost Uncle Fred in Southern France a few years back, until he redrew our family tree, from the Rose coloured one supplied by my aunt, and graphically described the awful early life my mum suffered. Joy and tears that have haunted me since. The poor soul then had a diabetic son. Before the advent of sterile disposable needles and blood sugar testing kits it must have been hell looking after me, on top of frequent hospital visits and umpteen jobs to help make ends meet.

On a brighter note the sun is shining so it is time to cruise South.we passed this horse made from recycled wooden lock gates at Nantwich.

Oregano

A bright and sunny morning following yesterday's washout, but with a cool breeze.the old bullet wound is now merely an impressive scar, but the newer one is following a similar healing process, helped with oregano spray and an oregano oil capsule 3 times a day (courtesy of Tigon Ltd )with the two scars I can boast to my grandchildren about my exploits in the Battle of Britain towards the end of World War Two, as long as they are too young to work out my real age.

view Beeston castle from the Shroppie.

Mission accomplished

By any standards it was an unreal, but lovely evening. We met our son as arranged and he took us "home", a few minutes away, where we had a heartwarmingly big hug from both granddaughters and we watched a Disney movie before being returned to Tardis Two. The mooring obviously did not suit the cats as neither opted to go out during the night, although, to be fair, it did rain. It is not our favourite mooring either. We have become used to staying in remote locations with lovely dawn choruses, not Pidgeon's as here. We begin retracing our steps today, sad but true.

1500hrs. It has been persistently precipitating all day so we have moored somewhere in view of Beeston castle, or it would be in view if it wasn't raining. Built in the 13 th century it stands on a rocky outcrop over 500 ft high. If the weather was better we may well have visited.

Brilliant or Bonkers?

I have often stated how thin the line is between being brilliant and bonkers. Last night I was thinking ( as you do ) into which category famous people fit. My conclusions were: 

Tony Blair.......both. Bonkers for killing thousands but brilliant for making £millions from it but then again he did marry Cherie.

Spike Milligan........both

Robert Mugabe.......... See Tony Blair, although he didn't marry Cherie.

Hitler.......bonkers

You can argue with the above or play the game with your own nominee's.

As you can see today started misty and beautiful. Canal mornings are quite unique. We aim to get nearer to Chester today where we have arranged to meet our son and two of our granddaughters, which makes this long trip worthwhile. We then head South again for my hospital appointments.

By lunchtime we arrived at our meeting point, the Cheshire Cat pub, and moored facing South next to a "wild" area ideal for the cats.

My love affair with the Shroppie continues. She is warm, cuddly and good fun, just like Barbara Windsor in her early acting days ( don't ask me how I know ) . If you are planning a canal holiday you can do no better than cruising the Shropshire Union and/or Llangollen (pronounced Lan goth Len) canals. The latter we had hoped to do this year but time is running away with us already, but I remember it well.

Healthwise I continue fit-free and generally feeling pretty-much OK, although Lynne reminds me the 3 weekly cycle is due again soon. Apart from a nasty and very itchy rash where I least need it the new drug has yet to show any side-affects, I think.

Coded progress

Another day on the Shroppie, sunny, hot and totally enjoyable. This really is a wonderful canal with fabulous scenery. It seems to be better maintained than others, although the few locks we tackled today were tough, but fortunately double so we had two crews to help at each.we have arranged to meet our eldest son at the Cheshire Cat pub near Chester tomorrow evening thus ensuring today's cruising was leisurely. We have moored as usual in the middle of nowhere conveniently close to the Shady Oak pub. The mooring last night proved exciting for the cats as they were chased through the cat flap by at least one mink in the early hours. Mink are particularly aggressive creatures and make a very distinct squeaking noise. Luckily they chose not to enter the boat as I am unsure what our defence would have been. Perhaps we should sleep with a pistol under our pillow?

The Shroppie is well geared for recreational use but was one of the last canals to be used commercially in the 1960's, transporting oil from Liverpool docks to the Midlands

Some of my blog titles titles are now becoming  Coded but you will need to wait until they are published to break it, sorry.

Jewel in crown

The Shropshire Union, or Shroppie, as she is affectionally known, is the jewel in the crown of Britain's canal system. Fabulous scenery and no Scary bits, with easy mooring (apart from a below-water ridge,allegedly put there by the builders for a laugh ) it is the perfect introduction to canal boating. As a result the morning has been a good one, with no locks so far. We've moored in the middle of nowhere, about 6 hours from Chester, where we hope to be re-united with our youngest granddaughters, or not,depending on the prevailing mood. The weather is boiling hot again, which reminds me of a story I meant to relate yesterday. On our way out from Middlewich Lynne decided a major food shop was required, which necessitated a half mile walk to Morrisons. With a large trolley overloaded with eggs, milk, meat and veg we considered hiring a taxi back to the boat but finally decided to "borrow"the trolley and walk it back to the canal bridge nearest Tardis Two. As you know supermarket trolleys are reknown for going their own way, even on level surfaces, but on sloping pavements and hills they are something else !!! Despite strange looks from passers-by and the odd tussle with a push-chair  or two we got along pretty well in the heat. I returned the trolley with similar strange looks and push-chair tussles to be greeted by the customer services assistant with Lynne's credit card which she had left at the till. Lucky, or what? If we had not borrowed the trolley and returned it instead of dumping it in the canal our credit card would have been lost. No boat diesel, no meals out, no life.

Canal water here has returned to the normal beige.

Perfecting perfection.

A bright morning but temperatures are on the decrease at a fast rate, sweaters and jackets are being retrieved from wardrobes and cupboards. Maybe it's because we have reached further North. On the map we are on a par with Liverpool and Manchester. Middlewich is a nondescript sort of place, merely a junction for several canals, so the chances of us taking a wrong turning have got to be high. Fingers crossed. Without wishing to tempt fate I have had several fit-free days and generally feel OK, but we are getting to the point of my 3-weekly cycle soon so again fingers crossed. We got to Kings lock within minutes but Lynne had already begun baking a loaf between captain's duties. I set the lock gates and nipped into the Kings lock chandlery to tell them we needed diesel and to check the price. By the time I returned to the lock Lynne had emerged from the galley and gave me a going over for not telling her where I was going. The fact she wasn't there to tell seemed irrelevant. We needed to moor alongside a broken-down boat to get near the diesel pump,but Lynne had the sudden urge to check her bread again, leaving me and the chandlery owner giving instructions to thin air. Embarrassing or what? We filled with diesel and set forth up the Shropshire Union canal, Middlewich branch round a tight bend and narrow bridge, during which the loaf remained the most important feature. Heated words were exchanged and we managed to get through the first lock.

The first rule of sailing is that the captain should never leave the bridge during manoeuvres ( unless you are Italian and in charge of a large,fully loaded cruiser).