Friends of Warneford Meadow

I have just had an email from weepingcross, who has recently purchased a gorgeously adorable bear for a friends daughter. The bear was sold on behalf of the friends of warneford meadow. Apparently the Meadows were given to the Warneford hospital in perpetuity by a former superintendent who noticed that his depressive wife benefited far more from a walk in the fields than from anything his colleagues did to her.

I have walked through these meadows, and they are beautiful and relaxing.

Was it such a good idea?

The cleaning ladies (and Nathan) are fantastic fun, and have always listened to my stories, trials and tribulations with a fine balance of sound advice and falling around laughing. They know when to laugh, and they know when to 'cry'. They are fabulous. Indeed, many of my friends are brilliant, good job really, because I need them to be!

Anyway, after months of preparations after deciding to get a fish to accompany me on the boat; the endless discussions with various aquatic experts in my department, not to mention the excitement of progressing through the various stages of setting up the tank AND making sure I really DO want a fish and will look after it properly. I took the plunge and went to purchase the fish. You must understand it took me MONTHS and MONTHS to get to the stage of going to the fish shop. When they turned me away as an 'unsuitable owner' you will understand my distress.

Not only is it highly embaressing to fail after all the research and time I put in to ensure the fish would be happy; it is extremely disappointing. I tried to share my pain with the first friends I saw, and they rolled around laughing. Taking the hint I decided I would keep the whole fish thing quiet and stop talking about it. To be honest, I think everyone was relieved. I was marginally hurt but I was hardly going to say anything was I.

However, I still felt the pain, so I decided I would write about it in my column for canalboat magazine. It seemed the best way of telling people without having to do it face to face. So, when the magazine came out, I did the usual thing and took it down to the cleaning ladies (and Nathan) to read. I have NOT heard the end of it.

Oh well, it is good to see people rolling around in hysterics at my misfortune. I have told them my aquariam looks fantastic and the aquatic plants are thriving, very interesting and a complete delight to have on the boat, but that just makes them laugh even more.

Hmm... I wonder if it was such a good idea owning up to the fact that I am considered to be an unsuitable owner? Perhaps I should have gone to a different fish shop and saught a second opinion... hmmm...

OOOPSIE

One battery, two scientists....

top tip - do not electrocute your boss, and when he jumps out of his skin do not laugh hysterically!

Warm Gin

The great advantage of solar panels is you don't need to run your engine, and the fridge still works. The great disadvantage of staying under a bridge (to paint) is the lack of sun. I suppose you think I could run my engine... but I can't because I am still waiting for my new injector pipe to arrive.

I don't suppose you think this really matters, but it is a very very serious! There are no ice cubes!

Get a grip

Have you seen this?When will this country, and the CSA, start paying attention to fathers? I have looked into the CSA over recent months, and all I can see is an unfair, wishy washy, set up that is based on whims and fancies set to screw up peoples lives; that of fathers, and of children. Not only that, but they seem to make the rules up as they go along. The whole system needs a jolly good slap. I will write more about it sometime, but not now, because I am fuming. Fathers are being made homeless, and being pushed to the brink. The CSA was set up for something it is NOT doing today. This, I think, is unacceptable. What is worse, is that these fathers have no-one to turn to.

Food Allergies?

Don't eat at the Jolly Boatman at Thrupp

Don't eat at the Broadface in Abingdon

DO eat at The Anchor Inn at Hayfield Road in Oxford.

Injectors

The engine went Vrrrrrrrrm Vrrrrrrm (oh if ONLY I could put sound affects in!) then there was silence. This was a bit of a pain, not least because I am moored under a bridge in order to do some painting which means my solar panel is not doing its 'stuff' with the batteries.
I rummaged around the engine hoping to find the problem, and on closer inspection I found that fuel was getting through the system; round past the lift pump through the filters, injectors and up to the injector pipe; but pipe number 2 is leaking. Could this be why it isn't working? On even closer inspection I noticed the olive (yes, it is an olive) on the end of the pipe (right at the end of the pipe), and thought it probably should be on the end, so... can we conclude the pressure of the fuel is gently pushing the pipe away from the olive, as people suggest?! Can I put another olive on myself (which people suggest is not an option) - I have absolutely no idea.

In order to get somewhere wtihout too much confusion, I have ordered another injector pipe from ASAP supplies and it should arrive tomorrow. Having looked at the shape of that one, and the look of the one on the boat, I THINK they are different... so... it could be interesting getting the new one into the space of the old one. One kind boater said he would do it for me if he was nearer... I suppose it would be excessive craning the boat out and taking it to him.....

Oxford Canal is gorgeous after all

I have often wondered why people think the Oxford Canal is gorgeous, but when I went through at the weekend, I was reminded how they are absolutely right! The hedgerows are blooming and bursting with wildflowers. The damsel flies are out about about, and the whole canal atomoshphere is simply delicious!

I love this wooden bridge



the lock moorings at Roundham lock (which is also shares its name with the roundham lock theatre)



and the hedgerows are splendid!

Spider

I had a glorious weekend visiting the ancestral seat and found the garden was looking absolutely glorious! Pa has worked really hard to make it stunning, and I have always admired his forethought and care (not to mention patience!). When I was a nipper he planted some laurels in the corner of the garden, and took me along to admire his new 'secret garden'. As I stood there beside him, I thought he might finally have lost it, the only bit of me that wasn't taller than the Laurel was my feet, and I didn't think that was terribly secret at all! He went on to tell me the laurels would grow and hide the area. I really wasn't sure there was any point, they would take ages to grow and by then centuries would have passed. He was absolutely right though, 15years later and you walk straight past that section thinking it is the end of the garden. He has also developed a winding stroll to it through the bushes - OK, so you have walk bent up double, but it is a glorious woodland walk. It almost turned out to be an appetiser for me, when I started to stroll through and nearly ate the door man:

The Onion Shed

I DO like the onion shed - here it is:

Flowers and Fruit

Here are some piccies from a stroll around the garden:





and a fig for Miss T

Moving the Deer

Having moved swapped my dining room and sitting room, the deer head hat stand is no longer in a suitable position. I found myself developing the strangest of walks/swaggers to avoid it. Unfortunately there is currently no-where else to hang it. The ideal place would be in the new sitting room, but when I had a go, the lining started to come down due to the weight of the skull, not to mention the added weight of the hats! So... I have been eyeing up the flimsy wall coverings and trying to muster up the enthusiasm to strip the rubbish off, and put new stuff on. To tongue and groove, or to not tongue and groove is the question! I had thought I would T&G below the gunwhale, and do ply above, but I think I will do it the other way around. First I need to reveal the horrors behind the current lining.

It never ceases to amaze me how I can find energy to strip an entire room down to the lining, just so it will hold a hook for a hat stand. Extravagance or what!