... feminist, atheist, autistic academic and historic narrowboater ...
Likes snooker, beer, tea, rivets and solitude, and is strangely fascinated by the cinema organ.
And there might be something about railways.

Thursday 29 August 2013

The mantle of greatness

Once, as an adolescent, when we went on holiday to a rented cottage at Selsey, I packed a pair of oven gloves. It was an odd thing even to possess at the age of fourteen, let alone to take on holiday. But (I suppose being unaware at the time of the insulating prpoerties of tea towels) I thought that, if someone discovered that oven gloves were needed, it would be my moment of glory. And I wasn't even a boy scout. I can't recall whether my oven gloves were scorned or simply never called upon, but my moment finally arrived last Sunday.

Steve from Swallow approached, saying 'I've been told you're the person here who's most likely to be able to help.... ' I do hope so, I replied, what do you need? 'A mantle for a Tilley lamp... There's another illuminated parade tonight and we've taken the electric lights off...' (Steve, it turns out, is a big Tilley lamp fan).

Well, YESS!!!!!!! I have, in fact I have two, hooray. Steve goes away happy, David, the owner of Swallow is forebearing, and of course in my opinion this is easily the best illuminated boat in the parade.

Even if the woman behind me said 'Well, they could have put some fairy lights on as well'

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