Leaving Chester

I've decided to try to blog a bit every day more like other boaters do, in order to keep folks across the Pond apprised of where we are going. They have canal maps and want to follow us. Occasionally I will do a longer blog with more pictures. I have some retroactive blogs to do from Llangollen as well as Chester. Time gets away from me now that I am semi-retired. Our days are timeless now; full and satisfying!

We are moored up at Bridge 135 near the Chester Zoo...after a visit of nearly five days to take in the sights and sounds of Chester with our friends Scooby and Rita Talbot. We un-moored this morning in a delicate rain, cruised through the staircase locks doing the Chester shuffle--this time with one boat coming up and another going down alongside us.

The couple traveling down with us were boat owners on holiday. The Missus told me she had to do all the locks because she couldn't steer the boat and she was tired out. Les was doing the locks and orchestrating the shuffle from above. I was piloting our craft.

His nibs as I shall call the bloke on the other boat next to me was a miserable sod. When I asked if they lived aboard he said, "No we don't," and turned away to deter further conversation. He seemed quite unhappy to be sharing a lock with a woman at the tiller of a boat. His poor wife didn't look like she was enjoying much holiday. As someone I knew a long time ago used to say, "You've got the same old drawers (knickers) to be glad in!!"

I negotiated the tight turn under the bridge and out onto the water point below the locks in grand style and we tied up to empty the rubbish bags, the toilet cassettes and take on water. Les hooked up the water hose and forgot to turn it on--again!! This is the fourth time he has done it--which makes us laugh like lunatics, as we think of how long we've sat patiently waiting for the endless tank to fill. I'm on to him now, and while he took the cassettes away I checked the water point and turned it on.

We had what was left of last night's supper for lunch--Southwester Potato, Chile, Cheese soup (yes Lisa Conger--your delicious recipe!!), and then got underway again with Les steering. I stayed below to put on a load of washing and gave the interior of the boat a good once over.

Scooby and Rita shoved off Tuesday for Middlewhich. We traveled together from Calverly to Chester and had almost a week of lovely visits and dinners, back and forth from boat to boat. It was wonderful enjoying female companionship which I have missed--especially with Rita who is Canadian.

We had North American ex-pat moments when we two were the only ones at the table who knew the lingo and lines! Scooby has a fast mind and a delightful sense of humor. Both are great cooks. I could get into bed with Rita's Guinness Chocolate cake! Thanks for a chance to get to know you both better...

We are moored up now in the quiet of the countryside. The wind sways through the trees, which sigh and flutter; reeds bend and the large umbels of Cow Parsley and water Hemlock bob in the breeze. Life slows down and time is a liquid jewel, trickling slowly as Dear Sir and I travel the water road together, arms around each other, our laughter floating on the moist, sweet air.

Entering Chester

The Romans built a fort next to the River Dee in75AD it was known as Deva. In 617 the Saxons captured Chester. Fires, Plagues and Civil war, Chester survived them all upto the most important date in it`s history 1779 when the canal opened down to Nantwich and made my journey possible.

The water tower built in 1850 owned and operated by the Chester water company

and the Steam Mill

together with the Lead Shot tower all stand out on the skyline as you pass through the last 2 locks and enter the city centre. The tower is 168feet high and was built in 1800. it`s purpose was the manufacture of shot some of which was used in the Napolionic wars. Molten lead was poured through a griddle at the top of the tower. Perfectly formed globular lead pellets landed in a wooden vat of water inside the tower. The eyesore on the side of the tower is a lift added in the 1970`s. The works closed in 2001 but is subject to a preservation order so it will remain amongst new housing.

So now moored behind Scooby and Rita on Festina Lente we are adjacent to the city centre and can freely come and go in and around the city with no hotel bill. In case other boaters are wondering all is quiet with no noise or disturbaances 11.30pm and thru the night.

The Bunbury Shuffle

I`m sure the boaters amongst our readers know how a staircase flight works but me and Jaq have many friends and family back home who have no clue. Some of our readers might be new boaters who will enjoy the post. So experienced boaters are excused reading this post; feel free to do the washing up or carry on knitting.

Bunbury staircase locks are the first locks after leaving Nantwich on our journey to Chester. This staircase is made up of two locks and raises/lowers the Shropshire Union canal 15 feet, 7 inches.

Picture 1

There are two lock chambers, and three sets of double gates. The gates in the foreground of the picture above separate the two chambers. The boat in picture 1 above is coming into the top lock to go down. Normally we would encounter just one lock, as you see it in the top picture. We would lower the water level, open the bottom gates and carry on our way. The difference here is two lock chambers to be negotiated. So in picture 2 below I have turned around and I am looking down at the second lock which has one boat entering to go up.

Picture 2

The difference in canal levels from the top lock in picture 1 to the bottom lock in picture 2 is as I mentioned, 15 feet, 7 inches and it will take two courses of action for the boats to swap places. With all gates shut the water is released from the top lock (Pic 1) into the bottom lock (pic 2). This will make the water level in both chambers equal.

Picture 3

In  picture 3 above, the boats are passing each other as they switch places. The gates they are passing through are the ones in the foreground of  picture 1.

So now on the left is the top lock  (picture 1). The boat has come half way on it`s climb and will now let water in to raise it the rest of the way. The boat on the right is in the bottom lock as in picture 2, and will now let water out, lowering it down.

 Things are slightly different when three boats want to use the locks at the same time. Two boats coming down and one going up is possible as is one down and two up. This then becomes the "Bunbury Shuffle".

On the left two boats have come down in the top lock together and one boat has come up on its own. The gates are being opened between the locks. As in picture 3 above, the boats must now swap places so it is time to do the "Bunbury Shuffle". On the right above, one boat going down moves forward and into the vacant space next to the boat going up. The single boat facing us comes into the vacated

space, below left. The last boat then

moves forward, below right. The first boat in has moved across the lock to make this manoeuvre easier for the last boat in. The gates will now close and the two locks will be filled or emptied to take the boats to the upper or lower sections of the canal.

Goodbye Nantwich

Well it seems I am not alone in my dissapointment of the Thames boat pageant. The BBC has recieved complaints and a petition has been started on the Canal World Forum although I see no point as the damage is done. The BBC are after all a law unto themselves funded by a mountain of cash from all those licence payers.

cheesecake desert tasty and well seved

Nantwich has been a magnet lately. Every time we leave a force draws us back. No it`s not any of Jaq`s aliens but the dreaded dentist. The Olde Barbridge Inn near Barbridge junction where the Middlewich arm leaves the Shroppie has recently re-opened following a closure for reasons i`m not sure of. Anyway i have
eaten here some years back and Jaq and I decided as a leaving Nantwich celebration we would dine out. Jaq had the Sirloin and for me the Steak and Ale pie seemed to be calling me. Now Jaq is an excellent cook as those that have dined aboard Nb Valerie will I`m sure confirm and her opinion was "it was alright" so perhaps points low down the scale. Myself the pie was superb, full of meat and very flavourful.
The menu, left, can be read on the website although I found it very dull. Not sure with the new blogger but clicking the menu image used to enlarge it.
We all have different wants regarding menu, price, atmosphere etc so mine is just a personal opinion. The menu from my last visit some 3years back was more to my taste being larger and contained a more pub like choice. Prices, well make your own judgements as we all value things differently. The service was fairly good but I felt it didn`t match the upgraded pub menu they were presenting.

 After the pub meal we stopped at Calverley sevices to start another book swap and then moored nearby for a couple of  days waiting for friends to catch up. We are now heading for Chester in the company of Scooby and Rita on board Festina Lente(sorry no blog to link to). I had not seen them for quite some time and Jaq had only known Rita via Crap Facebook. Rita harks from Canada so as you can imagine they were chatting in the locks non stop. In fact they on several occasions had to be told the gates were open and that they could if time allowed bring the boats out.

Trains, Planes and an Automobile.

The title translates into "Mamma is coming to visit" which translates to "we have booked our tickets" for the trip home in November.

I did not realise booking air tickets was as complex as a ticket to ride the UK trains. For sure I have become accustomed to the idiotic pricing, having travelled from afar over the years to visit family leaving the boat in a marina. As an example, a 2 hour journey south from Stafford is £19 ($29) with the option to return anytime within 28 days. The same destination but from Rugby (a one hour journey) is £25 ($37). I spend less time on the train and get charged more!!!

Anyway, back to number 2 in the post title: those metal birds flying high above the Atlantic. Thinking about it, they are like narrow boats filled with seats and wings attached.
 Now having flown the Atlantic several times in my pursuit of true love, the idiosyncrosies of flight booking have become easier. Jaq has a bias on flying American carriers.  Her country`s desire to police the world makes her feel vulnerable.

 So with Jaq`s wishes in mind I have managed to book British Airways flights across the Atlantic without having to book direct with BA.  Air France and KLM are other choices, but usually involve going via Paris or Amsterdam. I managed-- by varying time and date of departure in my flight searches--to find flights that although state an American airline are on closer inspection operated by BA, but not at BA prices.

We have 4 airplane journeys £764 ($1146) total per person.  More than 50% is tax and airport fees!
1.  London ----Portland(Oregon)
2.  Seattle------Spokane
3.  Spokane----Seattle
4.  Seattle------London
British Airways wanted £716 ($1074) just for journey 1 and 4 and this was NOT direct to Seattle with a hitch on Alaska Airlines to Portland. It was on an American carrier and went via Dallas with a long layover. Also they wanted £724 ($1085) for part of 1 and all of 4, i.e. a London-Seattle return.  For some reason they couldn`t quote for 2 and 3 operated by Alaska Air at £119 ($178) booked direct. So to book via BA then, with Alaska brings the price to £835 ($1242) or even more if........enough--I`m getting confused.
My point is, don`t take what you first get quoted.
 Also the BA air miles scheme has been changed and is now Avios points. To try and use our Avios points to upgrade means we need to almost buy the plane to get enough points. Dad always said you get nowt for free. Maybe we can use the points for car hire; must check that on the website.

All the four trips are on different days with train rides or car hire between  trips. So back to the train part of the post title and the 2 Amtrak trips which are for fun. We thought this would make a nice break from hiring a car. The first one is from Portland to Tacoma $26 (£17), 2hrs 15mins  and the second Tacoma to Edmonds, Seattle $14 (£9) 1hr 28mins. See how the fare/time on train ratio is more sensible compared to my UK example.

Number 3 in the post title is the car, and for a 14 day hire via Budget USA, £264 ($390) is just slightly cheaper than Budget in the UK. A Ford focus is the car in the quote that we might book. I did have reservations about any excess on the insurance. It says it comes with (CDW) collision damage waiver; I`m told this means no excess to pay if I happen to either scrape it or get into an accident. Any U.S. readers with some knowledge of this please let me know. 

I do hope this post is not to confusing but Jaq and I just want her friends and family to know we will be home in November and to show the price variations here and in the U.S.

Thames boat pageant

I am so happy it rained all day here on the Shroppie yesterday keeping me inside. It meant I hadn`t wasted the hours sat in front of the TV watching the Thames pageant. The coverage of the event by the BBC was abysmal. Yes the narrow boat coverage was small but then so were the shots of all the other craft. In a football match or a horse race names of players, horses and riders would be quoted non stop by the commentators. Surely some research could have made the commentary more interesting. The participants line up was established some time back so no excuse of time. Those little vessels that crossed to Dunkirk could have given some interesting facts.
Why we had to know the weather on previous years is beyond me because while this interview with some forecaster script reader went on we were missing the boats.
Ok rant over. I will say although i`m not a Royalist, that 86 yr old has my respect. I didn`t see her sit down once.
 Nb Indigo Dream took part and blogged from the Thames with lots of pictures take a look HERE.

Aliens Have Landed and They are Over Here, Among Us!

   In June 1912 Novarupta Volcano, located across the peninsula from Kodiak Island in what is now Katmai National Park, laid down over 700 feet of ash in twenty four hours across forty square miles and created the Valley of Ten Thousand Smokes—thousands of fumaroles venting from the ground across the valley.
   On March 27th, 1964 an earthquake struck Alaska. It lasted as long as 5.5 minutes in some places. This was the second largest earthquake ever recorded in the world, and had a magnitude of 9.2 (Mw) , and the largest in North America. The Good Friday quake caused the greatest amount of vertical uplift ever measured. Movement of the ocean floor caused the most disastrous tsunami that ever hit the west coast of the United States and Canada. The largest wave height was 67 meters (220 feet) in the Valdez Inlet at Shoup Bay. I lived through this extreme geological episode as a child of six.
  Alaska is a land of great contrasts. It is 586,000 acres most of which is owned by the U.S. Federal Government. The Last Frontier—its official motto—has 47,300 miles of coastline! Great Britain will fit into Texas three times; Alaska is larger than Texas and three other states. It is a place of extremes in geography, geology, climate, culture, and people. It also a place of strange occurrences. As Alaskan poet Robert Service wrote:

There are strange things done 'neath the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold.
The arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold.
The northern lights have seen queer sights…

   I have personally had two encounters with what I can only call UFO’s while I lived in the Alaskan bush. Once as a child of eight while my father and I were camped out along a lovely little creek in the bush between Eagle River and Talkeetna in 1966 we spotted a strange, cigar shaped, smooth metal craft hovering low above some electric lines. We jumped in the van and tried to chase it but it shot off--stright up and dissappeared; the second time was a series of sightings in 1981 during the pitch black winter darkness of the Alaskan bush over a period of two months—no electricity nearby and the nearest small town over forty miles away on the other side of the only pass through the Talkeetna Mountains for three hundred and fifty miles.
   “Okaaaay,” you are all saying, “but did you actually see any aliens?” Well no…until now. I have discovered them living amongst here in England--cohabiting with humans who serve their needs.
   They live quietly in the country, away from the light and curiosity of city folk. This particular race of alien creatures all have brown eyes, strange, twitching ears, and skin exhibiting a range of patterns from one uniform shade to different color splotches or patterns. They also have very large, square, bony bodies—like a large box with appendages attached and multiple stomachs with which to digest their prey.
   The male of their species is armed with two large, sharp weapons jutting out from his skull; the females have one rather large breast which hangs down between their legs, making it difficult for them to run far or fast. Unable apparently to master our language, these strange creatures speak with low, baritone to bass range vocalizations with a nasal twang.
   I’ve managed to get some pictures and I am posting them here for all to see….

   LOL! See, “I come from the land of the ice and snow with the midnight sun where the cold winds blow…” (Led Zeppelin) and the local species are Grizzly and Black Bears, Wolves, Fox, Moose, Caribou, Musk Oxen, Bison, Wolverines, Lynx, Snowshoe Hare, Ermine, otter, Ptarmigan and five species of Salmon. Cows??? Not so much.
   Our moorings along the Middlewhich arm allowed me to see cows close up for the very first time and they invariably made me giddy with laughter. I mean really, what a crazy evolutional design. They really do resemble large, bony, angular boxes with legs. And whose bizarre idea was one LARGE breast hanging between their back legs…strange creatures indeed.

Books, a Boat, and Springtime Things

After Monday`s dental appointment my next one is tomorrow (Friday), so the decision was made to spend three days on the Middlewich arm and give Jaq her wish to spring clean the boat. We set up the drying line on a deserted bit of towpath and all the curtains, dinette covers, cushion covers--even our chair covers--were removed. Nine washing machine loads later the towpath resembled a laundry. At least the remote location meant we had didn't have to worry about blocking the path if people happened by, although there was plenty of room for folks to pass.

Before we left Nantwich again, we stopped at the services to take on water for the massive washathon. We had accumulated a few books, so while the tank was filling I started a book swap on the window ledge. There are many of these book swaps on the canal system and some even have DVD`s or in the old money, VHS tapes.

Over the past few weeks we have passed this obviously old, lovely clean and tidy boat several times. I checked the registered number on Jim Sheads site which indicated it listed it as "builder unknown." Now someone will know the builder, but isn`t the boat a Harborough or am getting mixed up? It`s those bars over the forward deck that are triggering something in my brain or has the dentist`s needle made my brain go la! la!.

Making our way along the Middlewich arm we spotted these three cygnets coming from the nest outside the new marina at Church Minshul. The size of the Cygnets, coupled with the extremely high man-made banks, made us wonder if this was their first venture into the water. We just pulled over and watched as mum and dad went in to the water, closely followed by two of the young. The third(last in the pic) kept stopping for a sit down and took a long time to drop in off the side to join the others. The significance of this was reflected by the absence of one cygnet on our return trip. We can only guess the last cygnet had not been 100% healthy when emerging from the egg.

Back to work/back to the future

After all the rain and wind lately we seem to be having a heatwave with the temperatures up in the middle to high 70F`s. Now hanging around for the next dental appointment and moving a few miles out of Nantwich in both directions is becoming boring. My preference over the last 6+ years has been to be what BW have tagged me, a Continuous Cruiser. I have been called worse and it`s better than Water Gypsy, traveller or Ditch crawler.  To me it`s like the `Back to the Future` films except we are not in a car. Instead we have a metal tube that takes us back 200 years travelling roads that in places have not changed with the passing of time. Roads well travelled but not by any wheel and never walked on, roads wet long after the rain stops falling. The future part is when we leave the quiet tranquil countryside and head back to the 21st Century and Tesco/Walmart. A few settings and key turns set us back on course  to the past, as Jaq says BLISS.

 

So that time of year again the sun is blazing down and the battle scars of the past years time travelling need to be healed. Find a quiet spot cut the rust away add a primer and as soon as the sun moves round and this side of the boat is in shade the top coat can be added.

While the sun slowly moves across time to watch others at work in the fields across the canal. They are harvesting the long grass to use as winter feed for livestock. For the American farmers Jaq and I know the tractors are John Deere and Case.

Hang on Jaq this blog is about people working. Oh! your on-line to your class. Sure does beat a campus classroom and they actually pay you. Lucky lucky girl. I can`t complain because the whole of this post has been typed out on the front deck just how Jaq is pictured including a drink. Bliss.

Now here come my witnesses blog readers Martyn and Sue out for a trip on Cherokee. They will vouch for how hard i was working. Last seen here in May 2009, 3years...Wow time flies.

Well at this moment we are back in Nantwich for the dentist Monday. I believe I have one more appointment so the plan is to head for Chester after Monday and get a bus back for the last appointment.

Something high and beautiful, something just beautiful.

 Jaq is more confident steering now with her new step. The extra 10inches enables her to rise to the lofty height of 5ft 11" and she can now see down both sides of the boat. The stool started life as a shared matching footrest for our chairs but was far to big and always seemed to be in the way. I saw a pair of small circular tables in a shop and cut the legs down to a comfortable height. Jaq looked on the Internet found two circular thick pads on Amazon and the Post Restante service soon had them at a nearby post office.Jaq has sewn extra ties to secure them on to each leg.

 

I know it won`t float but surely some of you must agree it`s worth some blog space. E type Jaguar circa 1973 spotted in Nantwich. Look at those mega clean inner wheel arches, this baby is not used in bad weather. Sure was a beautiful  day for posing about town with the top down.

Bliss…

"Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors where there were only walls." ~Joseph Campbell



   The word bliss is defined by the dictionary as complete happiness, or heaven. Bliss looks and feels like different things to different people. For me bliss is about simple things—the beauty of nature, a well prepared meal enjoyed in the company of loved ones and friends; laughter is bliss and good medicine combined, as is capturing a moment in the natural world that I alone was privileged to see. Come along with me and share my bliss…
   We’ve cruised into Nantwich, out and in, and out again, as we hang around the general area for the month of May, exploring the Middlewich Arm, Barbridge, Calvely, and spots either side of Nantwich. Les needed some dental surgery and now we are waiting for impressions to be taken and a new dental plate for him; I was waiting for an appointment to see the chiropractor.
   My left shoulder is weak from a chronic injury of childhood which has left me with masses of scarred tissue and a left clavicle and shoulder than pulls out of place. Years of physical therapy, massage to break up the scar tissue, and attempts at rebuilding the muscle have helped minimally. There are some things for which we pay all of our lives..this is one of them. So we’ve decided Les will do the locks and I will steer the boat in and out of them.
   Our second cruise into Nantwich on a late Monday evening brought us into a mooring near the stairs down into town. By the time we moored up, straightened a few things out inside and thought about eating, nine o’clock had come and gone.
   We threw on our coats and walked hand in hand through the falling dusk into a town emptied and quiet. Here in England Restaurants don’t serve dinner past nine p.m.week nights and some close even earlier mid week. We found a Pizza Parlour joint open and ordered two mini-pizzas to go.
   Walking into the nearly empty street, we spied a bench in the middle of the two traffic lanes, facing toward the street front and pizza shop. Dear Sir and I settled on the bench side by side, opened our hot cardboard containers, leaned back and propped out legs on the metal banister in front of us, and ate our pizzas as we watched a few late night teenagers wandering the streets for some fun.
   Our little patch of night was lit dimly by an old street light, and we joked about our romantic dinner out, with a curb side seat on the street and overhead mood lighting. Hot, steamy, garlicky smells wafted off each piece of pizza as we ate and laughed in the gathering dark.
   The next morning we were off again, looking for a quiet bit of countryside. The Middlewich Arm beckoned and we turned off the Shroppie at Barbridge. We cruised through Church Minshull lock, past a lock-side cottage…


   …with a lovely hidden back garden. One must peek over the wall to see it!


   Looking back I saw the cottage from another perspective, with boats lined up waiting for the lock gate to open, and their turn to go up. The Middlewich arm is only about twelve miles long but it cuts across some truly lovely countryside, bordered by dairy farms, and lush greenery.


   Along the way I spotted this charming place with a whimsical wavy roof line.

   Eventually we settled for a couple of days near the Flashes—small lakes formed by subsidence from salt mining. These water jewels are a haven for wild life. The cut (canal) is up on an embankment looking down over the wooded hillside to the flashes below.



   There is such an abundance of life on the canals. I cannot convey the continual birdsong that fills the air from a half an hour before dawn to just after dusk. It is the sound track of our loves aboard the NB Valerie, and they are songs I do not recognize—European birds singing their mating songs. I spotted this grey Heron hanging out near a bridge hole, waiting for fish sign.

   As we cruised along I looked ahead to the next bridge through the hole of the nearest one…

   ...and looked back through the one we just passed. Bridge holes fascinate me. They are essentially doorways, and both are liminal spaces—like margins, and the periphery of our sight. Liminal spaces provide a place for unusual events to occur. Liminality leaves space for things outside the everyday realm of reality to survive. 


   yes, the grass is greener though the next bridge hole!


   Coming into the town of Middlewich the canal cuts through the backs of housing estates (subdivisions). Bijou back yards filled with flowers tilt down to the banks and private moorings are filled with boats. This one is decked out in a confetti of flower petals.
   On another trip into Nantwich our friends Jennifer and Peter Huskisson caught up with us. We met them in March at a bus stop in Shrewsbury. We were all waiting for the bus back to Ellesmere. I just knew they were boaters when I spotted them! Sure enough and they were moored up two boats past us on the Ellesmere Arm. We invited them to dinner and thoroughly enjoyed their company, so it was great to see them again in Nantwich.
  British by birth, their parents immigrated to Australia in the ‘50’s as “ten pound POMES.” In the 1950’s the Australian government wanted settlers. Brits were invited to emigrate with only ten pounds in their pockets—Australia would provide everything they needed once they arrived. POME stands for Property of Mother England-–a nickname given to British settlers by Aussies. Now days the Huskissons call Tasmania home, with a house on the beach. Both are university educators, and very widely travelled. They purchased a good used narrow boat and are enjoying Great Britain via the canals.

 
   Jennifer and Peter. We’ve become fast friends with them both. We share a love of laughter, great travel tales, and experience in higher education. Below is their boat, Mactra’s Filia

   If you see Peter and Jennifer along the cut please give them a warm hello. Friendship bliss!
  After our next trip into Nantwich we passed Hurleston Junction, and the Middlewich Arm,  and cruised up to the winding hole at Calvely, just before the locks. We found a lovely spot to settle down for a few days before we had to make the trip back in to Nantwich again. During one brief day of warm weather I ran three loads of laundry and we hung them outside to dry while les chopped some more wood to stack and dry on the roof for next winter.


   The winding hole at Bunbury; I winded the boat for the very first time! For non-boaters that is pronounced “wind” as in a windy day—not “wind” like wind up a toy. Winding holes are large V shaped cuts in the canals so the long, narrow boats can wind or turn around.



   Hawthorn shrubs across the face of England and Wales are bursting into bloom. Literally thousands of  miles of Hawthorn hedges fill the air with their sweet scent, bringing joy to the bees and me! Bee bliss!
   A spell of rain set in, bringing unseasonably cool weather and a need for a fire in the late afternoons. Les finished reading a book he had here in the boat. I borrowed his Kindle and downloaded a C.D. Sansom “Mathew Shardlake” historical mystery novel and we settled in to relax and wait out the rain. The canals and reservoirs desperately needed the refill. Rain bliss…



   Day after day we woke to this view out the window…
…by mid mornings the water poured down…
   …bouncing off the surface of the cut!
 
   The sky was dark and stormy for nearly two weeks as we travelled down to the water point and moved off again to find another quiet place, still tethered to the area by our dentist and chiropractor appointments.


   I decided to try my hand at bangers and Mash for dinner one night. Oooh baby! I had no idea how delicious this dish tastes. Americans you’ve got to try it: Brown the links, then whip up some onion gravy (Americans can do this quickly by using a packet of Lipton Beefy Onion Soup mix. Mix it with 3 Tablespoons of corn starch and 2 cups of cold water in a sauce pan. Bring to a boil and the gravy will thicken. Make it in the same pan you browned the sausages for flavor. Add the sausages back into the gravy, cover, and let simmer on low while the potatoes and peas cook. Simmering the sausages in gravy mellows the flavor and keeps them moist without being greasy. Bliss on a plate!
   Finally the sun returned as we made another foray into Nantwich. With yellow light pouring forth from a cloudless sky we passed foals in the fields grazing contentedly with mom and dad; a late hatched clutch of tiny, fuzz-ball ducklings peeping in panic as our boat momentarily separated them from mom; around a curve of green field enclosed by trees dressed in spring green we spotted a pair of mated-for-life Canadian geese with eight goslings hoovering the field for anything good to eat. The babies are comical—large, fuzzy blobs on stilt legs with flat, webbed feet. New born babe bliss…
   We slowed down past a cluster of moored boats and Les spotted a dead Perch floating on the surface of the water. Nearby on the towpath a large black crow called and cackled as it hiked up and down the edge of the canal, eyes locked on the fish, waiting for it to drift close enough to snag. A fish dish and crow bliss…
   As we continued on past Barbridge two buzzards swooped across the air behind us, close enough I cold see their individual feathers! A third juvenile buzzard joined them at treetop height and they swept off across the fields.  Just past the next bridge hole a fisherman placidly dangled a line in the water. Suddenly a tern swooped out of nowhere in front of us, cruising low. It passed us, dipping to the water’s surface and just missed pinching a perch from the cut!
   We moored up in Nantwich for my long awaited chiropractor's appointment. Emma with Nantwich Chiropractic was brilliant. She correctly diagnosed my left shoulder was slightly out of joint and my left clavicle was also displaced. I did it three weeks earlier while cranking up the lock gates at Middlewich which are a bitch to work—the worst I’ve ever come across.
   Emma was able to find all that under a mass of old scar tissue and realize those misalignments were putting pressure on my neck and upper spine. As soon as she finished the adjustment I felt my energy level rise like water in a lock.
   While I was getting adjusted and massaged, Les picked up a bit of shopping. We started back to the boat in the heat of the late afternoon. Dear Sir insisted we stop at a small shop and get ice cream cones—Rrrrum Raisin! Deelicious! Ice cold bliss!!
   We left immediately to moor up just before the winding hole near hack Green, back toward Audlem. I made a quart of fresh homemade lemonade and tuna salad sandwiches on cheesy baps for dinner. And of course there was a chocolate Kahlua cake under cover on the counter for Les. He picked it up and sniffed appreciatively. “Gor Jaq—smell it! That’s gorgeous!” Cake bliss!!


   As May passes we take every opportunity for walks: Les goes out and disappears for several hours on the hunt for old mills and unused canal arms. Dear Sir loves the English summer weather and revels in it. I don’t tolerate weather hotter than 65 degrees Fahrenheit very well (read this chapter of my blog So This is Love for the full story) so I walk early in the morning and later in the evening, laying low in the heat of the afternoon when I log in to my courses to check in with my students, or read a chapter of one of my favorite Kate Shugak mystery series by Alaskan Author Dana Stabenow. This of course, after a morning tidy up of the boat.
   I lie in our bedroom with the curtains pulled, the sun-dappled shade lighting up the interior of the cabin—a gentle breeze perfumed with Hawthorn wafting in past the curtains. I am catching up on naps! All those naps I fought when I was a little kid—I’m making up for them now as the heat makes me feel sluggish and sleepy. Dreamy bliss…
   On one of our walks along the cut we passed a lively little stream working its way from Bunbury locks to who knows where?


   While Les kept his eyes peeled for firewood I slipped into a dance of euphoria over fields of cleavers and nettles. I have a bottle of Nettle vinegar settling down, and a jar of comfrey and Pot Marigold soaking in olive oil. I will make a salve with some melted beeswax that will heal any skin condition from chapped skin to burns. Herbal bliss!



   Today as I wrote this post Les had me installed like a Queen, in a chair on the bow under the sun umbrella, laptop perched on a pillow in my lap, a glass of cool lemonade nearby as he sanded rust spots off the side of the boat and repainted them.
   Music filled the warm, sunny air: David Gray, Pink, Maroon 5, John Lennon, The Dixie Chicks…two swans swam slowly past me, gracefully gliding on the water, nibbling at the green threads of algae along the canal edge. Mallard ducks landed with a splash nearby and began to bathe as they discussed the merits of this neck of the woods and water.
   Sue and Martyn on NB Cherokee slowed down for a chinwag on their way to Audlem. Followers of both our blogs, they are another lovely couple I am pleased to meet.
   Mornings on the cut dawn like this….




   …and evening closes sublimely with me and Les chasing each other down the narrow hallway to see who will be first in the bathroom. Once the bed is pulled out across the hallway we settle into all six feet of it under the down comforter, snuggled close. We talk, laugh, tickle, giggle, tell stories and jokes, chortle, guffaw and belly laugh…sometimes until tears of joy and laughter roll down my cheeks.
   I remember the few and far between times as child when I spent the night at a friend’s home. After the lights went out we would whisper to one another, telling stories and jokes and laughing under the covers. I never wanted to fall asleep—I wanted our laughter and the incredible sense of joy so unfamiliar to me in the nightmare of my childhood to go on forever. Now it does, and I fall asleep nearly every night with a goofy grin on my face, molecules bubbling with that indefinable feeling laughter evokes within us. Bliss for me is falling asleep, safe and happy, in my husband’s arms, rocked gently in our narrow boat bed.