Pictures to Follow

The grebes are nesting, but not next to das Boot. This year they have chosen a spot on the river. I watched them busy collecting material. It seems much noisier spot than in the marina, but I suppose most grebes don’t have the luxury of off river facilities. I took some pictures, but it don’t know they show more than vague outlines.

I forgot MasterB’s harness so he can’t have shoreleave, and this time he seems rather keen. I’ve been playing with him, but it can’t be as interesting as the smells he’d have found out on a walk. Indoor cats must miss out on a lot.


The forecast has been so dire I nearly didn’t come. But in my heart of hearts I knew I wanted to be here and if there was a chance the weather might be kind, I would come. So there I was this morning, still vacillating, but at the back of my mind choosing the things I would pack. Pity I forgot the harness. Maybe if it’s quiet tomorrow morning I’ll risk taking him ashore and letting him run free. Not if it’s windy though. I don’t want any accidents when he gets back in board.


The journey east was varied. We left in sunshine, drove through hail with winds that swept the rain sideways across the roads. Pedestrians in Stratford outlined by garments wrapped round them. Then more sunshine; winds that chased clouds across impossibly blue skies; scatters of raindrops.


There were roadworks. There are always roadworks in spring. One lot had us crawling several miles until we were clear. I stopped at a petrol station and filled the tank.


Near the start of the undulating road across the fens that leads to the marina I nabbed half a dozen eggs from the nice egg lady. The road seems even more undulating than a week ago. Mary and her two uncontrolled but beautiful Labradors was here. They ignored her commands and jumped up at me. MasterB, so had been quiet and accepting most of the journey began to cry plaintively as I emptied the car. I wanted to get the bed made before he came aboard. When I let him out of his box, he made big eyes and sniffed everywhere before taking refuge under a pillow.

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This Morning Afloat

It is a cold bright morning. I am wearing my new heat generating socks from Marks and Spencer, but I can't feel any improvement. MasterB, after a noisy night, is curled up on the bed looking sleepy. The coots are swimming around the boats. Swans are out on the river. Gunshot is nearer than I would like. Someone is going to be eating pheasant this week.


Photos, unless from the iPad will have to wait until I get home, but I do plan to take some. I love the marina when it is like this, and just MasterB and me here. Maybe he can have some shore leave. He has so far not used the litter tray and has scorned the expensive sachet I opened for him. I should like him to have a poo before I leave for Mother's so that I can take it with me and dispose of it, rather than coming back to a foul smelling boat. There are voices nearby now, a river cruiser is going by, heading for Cambridge probably.


A Bit of Blue

Oh I was tired last night. Not Cat was off somewhere, so my planned early night turned into anxious minutes wondering where he was. Sonny turned up. The first time in weeks. I went inside to fetch him a snack, and when I came out again, I saw Not Cat slink through the bikes. He wasn’t happy. His tail was down and he hid under cars. It took around twenty minutes before he came to me. I wondered if he had had a run in with Sonny. Then, this morning, I found a tabby and white in the binshed. I smelled him before I saw him. I don’t know where he has come from, but he doesn’t seem injured. If he is still around when I get home, I shall make investigations.
Anyway, I slept later than I had intended. Not Cat was enjoying the garden, and intrigued by the new boy. No problem, no rush.
We left at last. My first proper drive in the car I bought a couple of months ago. It is much lighter to drive than the Clio, so my fears about my arm soon faded. I didn’t check the time we left home, but traffic was ok, and soon we were across and heading out of London. I have not driven East for months. The big old pub that has been for sale for ages has been sold, demolished and there are new flats being built on the site. The naughty knicker shop is still in business. It is on the main road, running through an impossibly suburban area. Someone should make a Radio 4 programme about it. Perhaps they already have.
His gingerness was vocal to start with, but settled and slept. Was it the Serene-Um with which I have been dosing his food for the past twenty-four hours? Maybe. I stopped and shopped, forgetting to buy olives. And on we went.
The boat was less spidery than I had feared, though a large striped one has just scuttled out when I drew the curtains. I ran the engine before bringing the boy aboard, and caught up with some news from a fellow boat owner.

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