Occasional tedious ramblings from a feminist, atheist, autistic academic and historic narrow boater who likes cats, beer, tea, and solitude, and is strangely fascinated by the cinema organ.
Tuesday, 17 January 2012
And (very slightly) drunk with Hairy Neil
I'll say this, living on the boats is certainly improving our social life. Most of our friends, by quite a long way, are boaty people, and as such are far more more likely to drop by now than they ever were to be passing the south coast. Last night Hairy Neil, hero of Chertsey's homecoming from the Trent, dropped in en route from Aberystwith to Slough. He arrived at half past nine (pm), and it was absolutely freezing, so naturally we headed into Brewood and back to the Swan, a really excellent pub - the fact that it was packed out on a Monday night being testimony to this. I'm sure no one else got even slightly drunk, but two and a half pints of Directors followed by half a bottle of Old Empire on our return is certainly enough to make me quite mellow... Anyway, we had a lovely evening, chatting until nearly two o'clock. Neil then got to try out the guest room, aka Bakewell's back cabin, with an airbed on the crossbed, and a large collection of tools and toolboxes hurriedly stowed in every available space, and was up and gone again at six. In the course of his departure, Willow slipped out, and then came and found me on Chertsey, so we had a nice little lie in until it was light.