A cold Atherstone

The canal has frozen over. It's an inch thick in ice. We were woken up this morning by the owner of the goose farm across the canal bashing at the ice to allow the geese to access their pen of the canal water. It sounded like he was banging against the side of the boat, digging his way into the steel. Fortunately our hull is strong and we woke up safe and dry! We were planning on moving off from Atherstone today if the forecast was better, as we've lined up a winter mooring in Hartshill. However, we aren't moving anywhere.


As snow has fallen and iced over during the night we are buttoning down the hatches and hibernating. This morning, Leigh has fed the small birds, swept the icy leaves off the boat, ran the engine and kept the burner toasty warm. I've been trying to keep my feet from freezing and pottering about inside.


Yesterday after a day of family fun, we returned to the boat with a new gadget for the impending ice...


These rubber grips pull over the soles of your shoes and grip the edges, as you walk the metal springs grip firmly into the ice making each step safe and secure, avoiding any little slips into the icy canal water!

We are dressing for winter these days, three pairs of socks, thermals, waterproof boots, layers and layers of clothes...


And last night went out into Atherstone to find out about this advertised 'Dickens Night'. It was a great street party...


with food stalls, samba parade, games and tombola and the local shops were open for passers by to browse...


and to top off the night in amongst the christmas high-street lights was a spectacular firework display...

Arvon writing course

It has been over a week since I have returned from the Shropshire hills which was the base for the 'starting to write' Arvon course I attended. Staying at The Hurst, the late John Osborne's (playwright) abode, a group of us 16 budding writers met for the first time. Myself and several others slept in the clockhouse (pictured above) which was also the building for the kitchen, reading room and dining area. It was quite an adventure full of workshops, writing and walking the woodlands, gardens and country lanes!

The rest of the group had rooms in the house, which was John Osborne's home...


Tutored by poet Moniza Alvi and novelist Niall Griffiths we had morning workshops followed by tutorials. I spent all my time writing and rewriting poetry and working on shot pieces of prose. I explored the countryside which was delightful and particularly enjoyed the surrounding woodlands, where it is known John Osborne passed out rotten drunk during a mid-night rain storm.

I have learnt so much from this course that I can put into practice and I am working on my collection of poetry as I write this. Here is a short extract from the last piece I composed whilst away...



Silently she pushed (extract)


Silently she pushed
the wet, wooden wheelbarrow up the narrow path,

in her long brown coat - elbows poking out.
It swooped and flapped, striking hard against her legs.
A gust of wind tore her grey and raffia hair across her narrow mouth.
She spat. Curled in her stinging lips. At the bend

she stopped. A tree-tumbling thud, dropped
the cart of crops. And reached down
with a snap of her aching back - a crumpled sheet of sunburnt paper...

From Hartshill under the pines to today

Back in October we were in Hartshill on the Coventry canal heading towards Nuneaton. The stretch of canal was busy and we passed the boat yard (see previous blog entry) to find a mooring spot under a set of large pine trees.


This soft wood has a soft spot in my heart. The interior of the boat is tongue 'n' groove pine and you could spend months joining the knots like dot-to-dots. Growing up with pine furniture at home, I recall the gentle sounds of the wooden wardrobe draws opening, the touch of the soft round handles, it's sunshine finish and the sweet pine smell.


From our mooring position, we looked up into a twinkling sky of swaying pine needles and cones. We spent a few delightful evenings burning the cones on the burner fire to give off the delightful scent.


And from the stern we could see the big green hill, an old quarry site (in the distance of the photo). It is a good landmark from the A5 down the way from Hartshill.


Whilst we were in this area, we had another couple of love-birds visit. And they came barring gifts from mother bird. Early christmas treats including this little beauty...


which is ideal for making our hot water bottle! And goodness me do we need this! As autumn is seeping into winter we are blasting the heat out of the Morso Squirrel stove.


In fact only yesterday we visited a local farmyard to collect 6 bags of oval smokeless coals and 2 large bags of logs to see us through the next month. Thanks to Leigh's brilliant idea of buying a wheelbarrow it made shifting the fuel a lot easier, well, for him a least!


Lavender was another mother bird gift, in amongst an abundance of wonderful produce, home-grown and foraged in a wicker basket wrapped with love. The bunch looked beautiful and I wanted to display it on the boat. However, taking on board Leigh's points about the buds dropping off and ways to conserve the scent, I followed his direction and set about stripping the buds from the stalks.


I had a large bowl-full of the rich pastel coloured buds and oil drenched fingers by the end of it. And with a set of pop socks packed two bundles full of the buds and tied them off. These scented packages I have kept in bed so that the sheets and I are scented with lavender from mother-birds garden.

We left Hartshill for Atherstone and have been here for a little bit longer than really we should. The other day, Leigh jumped up to look out the window and look what wild creature we spotted in the overhanging hedgerow...


It's colours were as rich as Indian dye and we watched it swoop and splash the surface of the canal water trying to catch a morsel or two. It really was a wonderful sight!

Here are some other feathered friends we look out the window to...




Last week, we had another problem with the electrics, namely a flat starter battery, and due to our wiring system this put pay to on board lights and water pump.


So we spent more evenings by candle light until we had a local engine electrics company go over the wiring system and sort it out. They fully charged up the batteries and re-wired the system so we can't drain the starter battery flat again by isolating the domestic batteries and installed our 300watt inverter. So this means we now have 24volt electrics anytime of day or night. We are no longer restricted to having to run the generator to charge up electrical items. It feels like a revelation!

And so to date, when we wake in the mornings and open up the stern doors, this is what autumn smiles back at us like...


notice the steam from the water surface??


What can I say? Bring on winter!

Visitors and Leavers

As the title suggests recently we have experienced some huge mountains and ditches. It all begun with Delia's little adventures to cross the A5 40 foot above the canal, dicing with cars


Can you spot the cat?

She found herself stuck in amongst the hedgerows opposite, were only wild animals meet. We had a couple of rescue missions involving the boat being poled across to the otherside and hauling her out from the prickles.


Then we had little Dylan to look after...


he is a sweetie, full of beans, until after a walk along the towpath.

And this weekend we had two lovely visitors to our floating home...


Happy Birthday PB!!!

Today has been a particularly bitter sweet day. Delia had been missing since Wednesday afternoon, after a couple of days of trailing the surrounding areas whistling and calling into the abyss we printed out some 'missing cat' posters and scattered them about the area. The result was amazing, boaters, house dwellers, dog walkers et all were all on the look out, some even buying a tin of cat food just in case! Nights were slipping away and we both felt her missing presence. A couple of phone calls of sightings lead us to running around the woods calling in hope that she was alive and well. But still she didn't come, were they mistaken?

And so this morning Leigh received a tentative call, a cat fitting her description by the road side. Leigh went to see... I woke to an empty boat. Leigh appeared full of grief. We went together to collect what we thought to be Delia's remains and set off in the car to the vets to check her microchip number, just in case. We felt, however, in our hearts it was her, she was finally found. The vets chip recorder came up with a number but it wasn't Delia's. We couldn't believe it. Leaving the vets for home we thought not to trust a computer system, all other parts married up, colour of fur, markings, paws, weight and size...

It was time for lunch and we were just locking up when Leigh received a call from the pub over the water. Delia had been in their garden. I couldn't handle it. Leigh and PB rushed off whilst I and MB followed in disbelief. Killer, the spotter said, she went over the wall into the horses field. We were scouting the area like mad, Leigh climbed the gate and spotting a black and white face called out, 'Pudding!' and she came running!

As I write this Delia is curled on my lap and hasn't left our sides since. She has eaten enough to fill her belly three times over and drunk more than I've ever seen her consume. In between feasts she has been stretching out and sleeping peacefully and giving us endless kisses. We are so lucky and with so much thanks to folks in the area for all their kindness, it has been an eye opening day. Phew.