... 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.

Wednesday, 23 August 2017

Alvecote approaches

Tomorrow begins the final holiday of this (academic) year. It's not a cruising holiday as I had planned, and postponed, only to postpone again. But going to Alvecote for their weekend historic boat gathering cum beer festival will be a much needed break from working on the house (for Jim) and living amongst the inevitable chaos (for me). (As of tonight though I do have a fully functioning bathroom!). Being a historic narrow boater is certainly good preparation for living in a half finished house - although it's certainly more than half finished now. In fact, my bedroom, study and living room are pretty much complete; the kitchen is apart from the tiling and shelves, and now so is the bathroom apart from a bit of finishing off of paintwork and, again, shelves. The stairs are still to be painted and carpeted, but the biggest remaining job is the dining room, which as site office and workshop has been left until the very last.

Anyway, back to Alvecote. To get maximun value from the bank holiday weekend we're going up tomorrow, and tomorrow night, if their journey goes to plan, we should be enjoying a Samual Barlow curry with the Moomins. Then it'll be a case of getting Chertsey onto its weekend mooring and just chilling with a lot of brass polishing, walks in the woods and relaxing in the sun (well, it's forecast to be dry at any rate). And catching up with everyone we haven't seen since Braunston, of course - with a Barlow's breakfast every day and plenty of beer.

I shall take my big camera with its new lens that Jim bought me for my birthday, so hopefully I should come back with some nice photos.


  1. Sadly, if you have not yet seen, we have had to pull out of bringing either boat. Our son Michael has broken his ankle very messily in multiple places, (playing 5 a side on Astroturf), and is now in hospital where they are trying to reduce swelling to the point surgery is possible. We were literally at the mooring about to depart with both boats when we got the news, and had to abandon everything immediately. This does mean we have your easel, and apparently Cath promised Melodeon help. There is the slenderest chance we might try to get up there by car for a day, but the odds are not looking good. To say we are gutted is an understatement, but we are still nothing like as fed up as Michael currently is!

    1. Oh dear! Sounds nasty. Don't worry about the easel, and I wasn't bringing the melodeon anyway as I haven't practised since moving (and barely before then). We'll miss seeing you there, hope to see you soon.