Pictures from the Marina

Time was, I used to take lots of photos at the marina. I don’t know why, maybe I feel I have covered most of the angles, but I don’t take so many these days. And when I do, now that Blogsy seems to have given the thumbs down for the time being to uploading pictures, I rarely post them. But a swan by das Boot always makes me reach for my camera, and the last couple of times I have really regretted only taking my little Olympus rather than my Lumix.

Swan at dusk


So walking around the other evening I had my little camera, and instead of just looking and admiring I took a photo or two. The lavender is well established now and a mecca for bees.

Lavender marina

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A Wonderful Day

I shouldn't like to live on das Boot all the time, and I can say with great certainty that neither would MasterB, but that doesn't stop me from feeling sad that I shall go home tomorrow, or from MasterB having a nice time now. He has commandeered my seat, a fold up director's chair of some vintage, rather as he commandeers the sofa. I am writing in the dark to discourage the ingress of insects.

I just tried to ring Aunt, but her number was engaged. It was similarly engaged half an hour ago, from which I deduce that she is relating our day to Uncle Bill.

As forecast, the day dawned bright and sunny. It got brighter and sunnier as the morning passed. And hotter. I should have mentioned hotter, some 30 degrees C, and hotter still in my car after it had sat in sunshine for a while with the windows closed outside Aunt's flat this afternoon.

Showered, dressed and breakfasted, and with my hair brushed and also washed, I headed off for Aunt's, only to discover when I stopped to buy the paper that I had left my purse on das Boot. At least I was able to offload the bags of used cat litter into the bin outside the newsagent's. I refused all Aunt's offers of cold drinks, biscuits, and goodness only knows what and hurried her out of her flat. My big fear was that we would reach the pub only to find the table she prefers, her table, taken.

So she got her vist to the marina, albeit briefly, while I grabbed money, a hat and sun cream, not realising Aunt had already put the latter two requisites in her bag in advance of my arrival.

We admired the poppies in the fields, the growth of the corn, the neatly rolled hay bales, and the rectangular ones. The sun shone. Continue reading

And Down Came the Rain

As I’ve said before, I’m a fair weather cyclist, but today I decided to risk taking the bike and trust to missing the forecasted heavy showers.

You could say it all went swimmingly.

My journey to work this morning was completed in sunshine. I took the precaution of tying a plastic bag round the saddle, and I had a big plastic bag to wrap around my bag if it rained. The waterproofs were a bit bulky in my bag; but it seemed a good way to placate the summer shower gods.

Second bike journey to Creative Writing was also a dry experience. It must have rained during the class as I came out to a soggy plastic bag on the saddle and lots of puddles. I congratulated myself on my good luck, but decided that this evening, when I am going to see a  play, I’d take the bus.

Halfway home the first drops of rain began to fall. Not much and I was confident I’d be alright. But then a long low rumble of thunder, and from just a pale pearl grey sky, a deluge.

I pedalled as fast as I could. Two children, running into the road, nearly knocked me off my bike. Regaining my balance I sped for home, locked the bike up and dripped my way into the flat. Cat was hoping for attention, but I was literally soaked to the skin. Water from my hair was running into my eyes.

I peeled off my clothes and flung the light-coloured ones into the washing machine. I had to wring out my trousers. My shoes, I left on the doormat outside.

I got into a warm bath.  The sun came out.

British summers: don’t you just love ’em!