This is turning into three post Sunday. Yesterday I reposted something from Janaury 2010 on my old blog. This is the post from the following day. It’s even more appropriate now as it snowed here overnight.
Boats covered in the white stuff under a clear blue sky in early morning. A Photographer’s Dream.
Snow was not forecast. Minus one centigrade does not mean snow.
I slept extremely well. Warm and cosy under my flannelette quilt cover. Until Cat woke me up because he was hungry. It was about four in the morning. I looked out of the window at next door’s boat and thought it looked a bit fuzzy. That bothered me, so I kept on looking and it gradually dawned on my sleepy brain that it was ice and snow that interrupted the outline.
I went back to bed. Continue reading
I repost these oldies from MyT in no particular order, This one is from November 2009 and I had been on the boat. I had evidently been chatting with Brendan, whose blog I have been neglecting recently, about Van Morrison. The man is a genius. I doubt if I’ll ever be asked onto Desert Island Discs, but I reckon Astral weeks would be the album I would want to take with me.
I didn’t get to connect Friday, but am home and online now.
Maybe there’s a secret to it t to which I am not privy, but getting out of London on a Friday afternoon is always a nightmare. I have to travel less than seventy miles so why should the journey take nearly three and a half hours?
OK, I hate motorways, and even if I didn’t ,they are impractical given Cat’s travel sickness record. Believe me, when your car smells of cat sick and the animal responsible is crying loudly you want to be able to stop quickly and clean up, not count the miles until the next exit. But the first of my traffic problems were well before any motorway was in sniffing distance. Near gridlock in SE16.
How come so many people are free to travel in the afternoon? They can’t all be like me, part employed/part freelance can they? And was today really National Bad Driving Day, or did it just feel like ir?
Fortunately Cat slept soundly all journey apart from when I stopped for the loo and to get some food shopping..
The radio was tuned to Radio Two. It was the Steve Wright show. Normally I can’t stand then man . His continued success is a complete mystery to me, but he was playing some good tunes today and had interesting guests. But after a while I couldn’t bear listening to him anymore and , thanks to last night’s ‘conversation’ with Brendano, I had a couple of Van Morrison CDs with me. Well, more than a couple actually. And as I type I’m continuing to listen to him. And he’s glorious,
The marina is pretty empty tonight so I’m hoping no one has heard me when I have felt the need to sing along,. Because Van is a Genius. Deliberate capital G. not a typo. Moody and unpredictable ,as anyone who has been to see him live will know, but an undeniable Genius. And when you do go to see him live, .it’s part of the evening’s excitement and entertainment, not knowing whether he will be Van the Performer or Van the Sulky Bear who hides at the back of the stage barely acknowledging the audience.
So tonight I’ve been singing and dancing and remembering just how good and how wide his range is. Listening to tracks old and new and hearing how his voice has changed, and how he has continually explored and experimented. And I feel amazingly lucky that his career has spanned my life from his Them days onwards – oh Gloria!. I am so struck by the integrity of his music and the way it connects at such a visceral level. Straight to the guts and heart,
And Madame George comes on and I know I am alive, and I’m glad!
The connection tonight is dreadful, so if I manage to post this it’ll be an achievement in itself. In case that’s all I manage to do, goodnight all.
This was originally posted on MyT.
MARCH 7TH, 2009 23:08
The Cat and I left London mid-morning and had a quiet journey. It would have been earlier except Cat, correctly guessing a car journey was on the cards, decided on evasion, and it was only be pretending complete indifference that I lured him close enough to me to catch.
He threw up a hundred yards short of the marina, which made for a slightly stressful arrival. But once on board, he’s been a star. Now that people are returning to their boats with the promise of spring, we’ve had social calls, rather than professionals checking out the loo/batteries/fridge etc. Cat has purred and welcomed, then stretched out over three-quarters of the seating and slept.
Last night he woke me with fearful howls. I leapt out of bed, convinced he was in dreadful pain, to find him defending das Boot from an uninvited visitor, one of the feral cats from the colony at the nearby farm. I hope he doesn’t do it again tonight, but I can’t help thinking this means he’s decided this is his boat and he’s happy here.
This is from an old post that I put up on MyT. I was looking for it here and wondering why I couldn’t find it. It’s one of my favourite photos of Cat afloat. I expect you can understand why!
These were originally four posts over on MyT. It’s funny re-reading them. It seems such a long time ago, yet it’s only two years! Wow.
Well, we finally made it. It’s Christmas Eve, and the Cat and I are preparing for our first night on board Das Boot. The Cat is asleep on the bed in the aft cabin and snoring, so presumably he’s accepted the situation. It’s taken several hours, some grooming with his new Christmas brush, and a bowl of prawns to achieve this harmony. At first he wanted to investigate outside but when I lifted him up and he realised he was surrounded by water he had very rapid second thoughts and spent the next couple of hours cowering under a stool. There’s been a Feliway thingy plugged in for the last two weeks as recommended by the Telegraph vet. It’s supposed to make cats feel zen, so that has helped too.
The sunset was beautiful and the only sound was of the lone angler casting his line over the water. As a contrast with my London address it couldn’t get much greater. There were a few people around earlier, illustrating beautifully just what messing about in boats means. Then the angler. Now all have gone, so it’s just me and the Cat. No car stereos booming out the beat, no frazzled parents struggling with kids and shopping, no raucous early evening drunks. No hot water either. The battery is flat despite being on charge for a couple of hours two weeks ago. No charged battery means no hot water without boiling kettles. So the floor is up in the forward cabin, so that the battery can be on charge.
I’ve attached the new bow fender, filled bottles with fresh water for drinking, had my first meal on board, put up the fairy lights and discovered the bathroom light doesn’t work. It’s a good thing I’m not scared of spiders as there are generations of them here. Due to the battery situation I haven’t had much opportunity to get to grips with housework in the forward cabin, so they are still in residence there. Some are quite beautiful. For all I know there’s a host of spiders who only live on boats. The aft cabin spiders are now on the pontoons for the night, or maybe they’ve managed to get themselves a billet on another boat. I saw an earwig too, but didn’t manage to scoop it up in my duster in time so for the moment it has a reprieve.
I still can’t get the fridge to work. It runs on gas, and there may be a valve somewhere I need to turn, but the whole thing is so cramped it’s like playing a game of Twister. You have to hold on the fuel while repeatedly hitting the ignite button and trying to see if the pilot light is coming on at the bottom of the fridge. It might be okay for someone about two feet high. I’ll give it another go in a while, but I think the gunwale will have to double as a larder overnight and if I want anything out of the bag I’ll just have to reach the window. I think I’ll survive.