General Witterings -
Spring Comes to Rosy

Yes indeed.  Today was the first day of the year when I could hang the washing up outside, and not have to use the tumble drier in the washerettarama.

Snowdrops, crocuses, bluebells, violets and little anemones are all flowering in the countryside.  The nettles are sprouting up, and Fanny has learned of their danger and treats them with due respect.  There is a particular road where the lizards come out to sun themselves.  This morning to woodpeckers were rapping away, and tonight there was a bat skimming over the basin.

Here on Rosy, it has been spring-cleaning time.  My mother taught me very little about such things.  Indeed she taught me very little about anything.  I recall the odd Scottish aphorism such as "Ne'er a borrower nor a lender be" - which, since father worked at the Abbey National Building Society, seemed to be particularly inappropriate.  And at age 19, when I was packing my case to head off into the big wide world, she eased into my bedroom to warn me to be careful, as out there in the big wide world there are strange ladies who want to give me nasty diseases.

Anyway, these deficiencies in my upbringing means that I lack basic skills.  Cleaning carpet tiles, for example.  I made up a cunning mixture of Omo washing powder, 2001 carpet cleaner (it looked a bit insipid on its own) and some Ajax lemon multi-usage cleaner and de-greaser.  It has worked pretty well.

I hesitate to say it, but Fanny has refrained from peeing in Rosy for about two months, hence I thought it safe to clean the carpet tiles.

Talking of Fanny ...

I usually wear jeans, but today they were drying on the washing line so I had on some baggier trousers.  Out for a stroll, the faithful hound and her master grew weary in the spring-time sunshine, and rested awhile - he upon a bench provided by the kindly townspeople of Briare, she at his feet, gazing up at him, adoringly.  He, in the warmth of the sun, nodded off.

She, it is to be supposed, spied, above the sock, and under the trousers ... skin.  And went for it.

He awoke a few moments later, to find himself surrounded by some of the afore-mentioned kindly townspeople, who were closely observing the rapid undulations and ripples of his left trouser leg, the whimpers of delight coming from within it, and the two hind legs and excitedly wagging tail protruding from the trouser bottom …

A few weeks ago, I gave out some figures of boat registrations on BW waters and the Thames.  Out of interest, Bob and Ann on the good ship 'Sippers' gave me some comparative figures for the Broads.

Boats registered on the Broads:

The Kabola diesel stove chose a cold snap in which to go on strike.  I was about to call out a Kabola engineer, but a kindly Frenchman (Phillippe) poked about for 2 minutes and diagnosed a burnt out thermo-couple.  A £6 replacement took 10 minutes to install, and all was well.

I have bought a satellite dish, and a digibox arrives soon.  I'll give up living entirely when all is set up, and return to my true vocation of watching the goggle-box.

The Dralon covers on Rosy's seats were pretty filthy when I bought Rosy.  I've put off cleaning then in case of shrinkage, but they got so awful that I put one in for cleaning,.  When that returned, clean, and of the same size, I got the rest done.  The result is pretty spectacular.

On Wednesday 19th March, Clare and James on the good ship Castor visited their boat.  The took me to Gien, were we visited the factory shop of the faience (earthenware) factory, where they sell "seconds".  There is also a museum there, but we are still on restricted, winter, opening hours.

In the evening, the first missile attack on Baghdad took place.

On Thursday, Clare and James took me to St Amand en Puisaye, a village with half a dozen potters working away.  In the evening we went to Aubigny-sur-Nere (where there is a Chateau des Stuarts) and then out the village of Oizon, where there is another Chateau, beside which there is a restaurant - La Maison d'Hélène where we had a wonderful meal.  I had pave de saumon, followed by duck - slices of duck, barely cooked, sitting on a thick orange sauce and accompanied by some orange marmalade and some petit pois.  Pudding was a calafoutis aux cerise - morello cherries lurking in a creamy/eggy sauce in a ramekin - all VERY hot - and a star anise on the side.  Le patron arrived at the end, and treated us to cognac/armagnac, and brought out his young chef to explain how it was all cooked.  The chef kept referring to his "lovely waitress" - who we/I had already noticed, but who didn't join the après repas party.  :-(

These two trips were Fanny's first experience of extended motoring.  She slept through them!!

That's all folks!!!

Toodle pip!!

Bill