The man with the two lovely collies and the equally lively yellow Labradot told me there were damsons at the end of the path. 'Some are very big,' he asserted. But although I followed you he path I found no damsons. I did gather my fourth box of blackberries, and had I had more containers I could have gathered yet more.
Quite a lot of the smallest container, about half I reckon, I have already enjoyed for pudding after lunch. A lunch which featured a poached egg. I bought the egg this morning and it was still warm from the hen. Although I do not think I want to live in the depths of the country, car culture is one of my main objection, there are compensations. My neighbour having, though with the best of intentions, killed my thyme plant, I have bought another. I have freshly picked spinach and salad. Janet Eggs is reserving some eggs for me to take home with me tomorrow. Das Boot is brightened by a bunch of sunflowers.
Das Boot is also brightened due to my efforts this afternoon. I have swabbed and mopped, scrubbed and wiped. The hose and the water pump have been deployed with effect. The clothes I was wearing are draped over the fence that separates the marina from the next door field. I hope they will be dry before long. It was very pleasant to strip them off and enjoy a hot shower when I decided that I had done enough for today.
I am of course buoyed up by a feeling of virtue. Virtue and a tasty mung bean curry. Also a glass of Austarlian Shiraz. There's a another in the bottle and I look forward to enjoying that too. It's almost the same colour as the blackberry stains I had earlier in my fingers. Maybe there's room for a second dessert of blackberries before I go to bed.
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A bit of a hiatus between that and now. MasterB has had more shore leave, this time in his harness, Janet Eggs has messaged me to say there are eggs for me to collect on the way home. Night has fallen. I'm sitting barefoot but otherwise clothed in the fore cabin, the above mentioned glass of wine close at hand. The music app on none seems to have vanished, and the ne n the iPad to have gone on strike. I don't really want to be the TV out again.p, but with its DVD drive it's the only other way I can listen to music. Think an earlyish night beckons.
Yesterday we had a three generation boat trip, I was tired, I woke up at six and when I dukes' tho back to sleep, I got up. I spent most of the rest of the day feeling in sleep deficit. Older Nephew arrived at 10.30 as the marina residents finished watching the antics of a pilot leaving vapour trails as s/he soared into the air and dropped in a vertical dive. We couldn't decide if there was a message being spelt out or not, but it was impressive.
ON and I tackled the air lock issue, filing the tank while having the taps wide open so far, twenty four plus hours later, it has worked, but Martin, another bora owner thinks it might be a clogged filter, I hope he's wrong.
Around 11.30 as we conleted our task and I was using a broom to dislodge some of the filth from the port side of the boat, Nephew, Partner and Baby arrived. We had a few choices, but ON had evidently made a nilaterql decision that we should venture to Littleport where there is a riverside pub we have not tried. So far we went. There was a certain amount if joshing between the brothers. ON asserting his knowledge of das Boot even over his aunt. This was noted but not challenged, despite the fact that his aunt (myself) knows more about das Boot than he does. In time I hope he will know more, and I am curious about his assertion. And a bit surprised. It's probably a male thing, but not the less worrying for that, in fact probably more so.
We saw swans, herons, geese, moorhens and coots. There were cows in the fields with their calves. Ely cathedral was majestic. The stretch leading to Lttkeprt as straight and dull. I want god I won't in a canoe, but it did remind me of the last slog down the Ardèche several decades ago when I finished canoeing that river with bruised knees and aching arms.
The pug setting was lovely. The food less so. Maybe we should have stuck to the Ploughman's lunches no baked potatoes. I'm not sure we'll return to give it a second chance. But the baby got stuck in. She'd already officially had her lunch on board, but she's not a child to watch while others eat. She had enjoyed her first boat trip, practising standing up and watching the riverbank with interest.
MasterB hid under the pillows in the aft cabin, though on our return trip he shared his space with a sleepy mother and baby. Tonight he is hunting moths. So long as he doesn't knock my glass over, I wish him luck. Last night he kicked over virtually everything he could on das Boot. My sleep was interrupted by a series of crashes.
But he's a god boy. A pleasure to be with. My own little star. When the Baby grows up and doesn't scream when she sees him, perhaps they will be friends.
Isobel (and Cat)'s Blog 
After a small tussle with wordpress, maybe this will work.
It was only a lame joke about how the Pug was lovely but the cat is God so will all dogs go to Heaven?
This is a lovely tale about the shifting centers of power. I think MasterB wins in the end.