Back to normal? St George and other stuff

So what's been happening on the cut recently.
Well after the excitement of a cruise round the fleshpots of Europe and a flying visit to the Cotswolds we at Cowroast Lock had our annual St George's Gathering.
I always make a fuss about St George's Day and never cease to be appalled at how few people are even aware of the feast. Make a note now to buy a red rose next year to wear on April 23rd.I'll pay.
The format for the Boaters' Do has remained the same more or less for over 10 years. Every year I think long and hard about doing something different but generally the good folk that attend seem  happy with the agenda. They  are content with the content.
Turn up, pay an extortionately high entrance fee, eat unhealthy amounts of red meat, drink more than the recommended unitage of sillyjuice, buy a raffle ticket for prizes , the majority of which are bottles of sillyjuice, and be bored rigid whilst an auction of unutterably useless rubbish is conducted. All the above in appalling weather, the attendees grateful to whichever deity they support that the temperature does not cause the gravy to freeze (it has happened) and all the time being harangued to part up with cash which allegedly I then pass on to charity.

Ably aided by Ady and Geoff work started on the Thursday, through Friday to get the site ready-a job that seems to take longer each year.Are we getting older?

The Cross of St George flies over the mooring

Friday Chairs. One could not estimate the sheer tonnage of bird poo that has to be cleaned from tables and chairs but the Poo Team soon had the furniture up to its normal pristine condition

The frames for the marquees are erected but no covers because the forecast for Friday overnight and into Saturday is appalling.

Indeed I woke at 3am Saturday to the sound of torrential rain hammering on the boat roof and fell asleep muttering " **** it-I'm cancelling"
More rain in the morning but it stopped by the time we fitted the marquee roof . Always a relief to see the roof intact ever since the Glis Glis air conditioned the last one.

We did attempt to seek some compensation from the Rothschilds who introduced glis glis into the country but to no avail. Perhaps it's time to reopen negotiations.......Especially as I discovered the little horrors (Glis Glis not Rothschilds) had nibbled the end of my Union Jack. I'll seek your views in the next post.

The fires are lit and people start to arrive. Ady and Budgie are Head Cremators with Mac joining in as we go along.

There's plenty to eat with some excellent salads and whilst it's a tad chilly it's not raining.

Astonishing bargains to be had at the auction

The raffle, auction, entrance fee and a half marathon by Carrie raised a total of 762.50. A marvelous result considering there were only 30 odd (very) people present. Joseph did a first rate job selling raffle tickets and there were some very good prizes. The auction seemed to take forever but a lot of priceless items were shifted. I use the word "priceless" advisedly. Mind you we had some decent stuff including some lovely lace plates which were a bargain for a collector, a guitar which Ady plucked up the courage to buy and 6 bottles of wine kindly donated by Janice and John from Berko who organised the wine tasting last St George's

The weather held out and we didn't poison anybody (if we did they haven't recovered sufficiently to tell me) so a most satisfactory day. Donations to the Hospice of St Francis (350) and to the Berkhamsted and Tring Stroke Support
Group (325) plus 87.50 to the Mooring Fund. Brilliant result.

Of course it's not cold-we're English. 

 The folllowing week I attended my Speed Awareness Course brought about because of exceeding 30mph in a place called Aldermarston, a place well worth not visiting and if absolutely necessary then do so at the highest speed possible. I had to go to High Wycombe for the course allowing an hour and a quarter to get there (should take 35 mins). Courtesy of some roadworks on the M40 I had to exceed the speed limit to get there on time. Seemed silly but I didn't want to be late.
It was interesting enough with a couple of decent chaps running it and it did make me review my driving, particularly in built up areas but I'm sure the old habits will return. The surprising thing for me was the age range of the group which with the exception of one lad was all over 40s; mainly over 50s. I queried this with the lecturer who explained the course was directed at people who had been caught marginally exceeding the limit-the inference being the boy-and girl- racers were over the top by some margin and had to take the three points. The course lasted four and a half hours with a 15 minute break so my bumnumbness was definitely not marginal. Anyway I avoided three points and a probable increase on my insurance. Mind you I am insured with the AA and the course (£95) is run by the AA so they are doing well no matter what I do.

The week after St George also saw me struggling with aches and pains from the weekends exertions so I took a walk round Wendover Woods and  caught thes bluebells just off Aston Hill. The bluebells everywhere are beautiful this year and I don't believe a photo can ever do them justice.

Friday 9th May and it's a busy day. The Coronation Class Duchess of Sutherland was coming through Berkhamsted/Tring on her way oooop north. Whilst I wouldn't pretend to be a train nerd I am sufficiently excited by the prospect of a nostalgic sniff of smoke from one of the engines which as an thirteen year old would have made my acne pop. I had a smile when I first saw mention of her coming on Facebook where the poster had called her the Duchess of Sunderland which doesn't sound quite so romantic. Anyway camera at the ready and armed with a beer crate to stand on I set off for the bridge over the railway.It's on the road leading up to Northcott Hall (or Misfit Manor as the locals call it) and was joined by Geoff H and Mike G. (the better of the photos was taken by Mike G without the aid of a beer crate)

Love that smell

There she goes

After the train spotting a trip to a brewery. The Lamb PH in Berkhamsted occasionally send a few people of a spiritual perspective to protest at breweries, distilleries and whorehouses and rail against the effect such places have on the youngsters in our parish. Because of the vulnerability of the young these visits comprise only very old people hardened against the temptations of the flesh and led by Bishop Phillip who counts as both sinner and publican.

Before the pilgrimage begins, the prayerful gather at the entrance to the shrine that is  to Saints Fuller,(the first Christian to demand a proper measured pint) Smith (Walter Henry who sold books and magazines to subsidise his drinking) and Turner ( a well known artist of the Pissoir school). The shrine comprises the oldest known wisteria in the country and as you can see the assembled become quite wysterical.

Our guide, Sue, who has a background in chemistry (unlike Bishop Phil who has a backside in Chaos) moved the throng along aware that she was preaching to the converted and whilst they were unable to tell a hop from a fining they were able to judge how many free pints they could consume before they got thrown out..

Cheers!

It transpired that Sue was a Spurs supporter like the Bish but I declined to talk football as Fulham having just been relegated thought it in bad taste to talk ill of the dead.

Cheers again!

We were all allowed behind the bar for this photo which was a new experience for Phil. The high number of reflecting bald cranii coupled with the bright lights made for a lot of glare.







It was a
 most enjoyable tour with a debrief in the adjacent pub and a bladdersome return along the M25.




Back on the moorings my supertrolley once again gives cause for concern with yet another puncture.three in 6 months. And buggers to fix as well.
So I decided on solid tyres and through the medium that is EBay ordered up a pair. They arrived promptly enough and were soon fitted and Supertroll was back in action. The funny thing was the delivery note showed them as from the Sikh Temple in West Bromwich. Weird.

I know the trolley is of no interest to anyone but me but it has been a good friend to me over the years and I owe it a great deal. It understands me.

2014 has been a good year for rainbows and we had three sightings in one week at Cowroast

And finishing with a double!

The other night I thought the campaign to stop LIDL opening a store in Berkhamsted had got a little out of hand when I found the road closed between Cowroast and the town.

but the local Roma outside the pub told me it had been a collision

My attempts to turn the mooring into something tidy and attractive rather than Steptoe's Yard got off to a bad start when a gangplank leaning against the shed fell onto the greenhouse (buggered) and deposited courgette, tomato and aubergine plants face down in the mud.

Disaster strikes in the potting department

Pleased with progress on the allotment.(It's not much of an allotment but it meant a lot to me. Anyway I didn't want to call it a smallholding cos that sounds smutty)



Anyway we shall overcome and by the judicious purchase of 40 quids worth of plants and some fencing to screen off the crap it is beginning to look the part.

 Finished just in time for a mother and father of a storm to water /flatten everything planted.

The storm was followed by a grandstand sunset

We have eggs!
Below is Jemima nesting on the mooring. She's been at it fpr at least a fortnight now so soon we hope the 10 eggs will produce some newcomers. As long as mink, foxes, dogs and people all bugger off.

Apparently female ducks will sit on eggs even if they are not fertile, but if it goes much over a month with none hatching, it can be assumed that the eggs were not fertile and you should take them away so that Jill can move on to other things. Well I wont be making that decision. That's for the clever people to decide.

To other matters.

.                                            

First there was this.....

and then this.....

and now the full version allegedly compiled by a cheese shop in Adelaide.

Anyway altogether now....

Sweet dreams are made of cheese
Who am I to dis a Brie
I cheddar the world and a Feta cheese
Everybody’s looking for Stilton


Some cheese wants to be Bleu, too
Some cheese wants to be Buchette d’Anjou
Some cheese wants to be cubed
Some cheese will be braided by you
Sweet dreams are made of cheese
Colby or Chevre, if you please
I ferment the milk and then I squeeze
Everybody needs penicillium
Mold is better, on the rind
Mold is better, leaves taste behind
Mold is better, cheese is confined
Mold is better, use my enzymes
Some cheese ought to be grated
No cheese should be ammoniated
Some cheese will always be hated
No cheese wants to be called rancid
Sweet dreams are made of cheese
Casein and rennet curdle it with ease
Whey from the curds it eventually frees
The best cheese comes from Wisconsin

Battlecat is not impressed by cheesy songs and I don't agree with Wisconsin but they had to make it rhyme I suppose.

Enough for now. I must compile a missive to Lord Rothschild whilst my ire is dire at the shameful and treacherous despoilation of our flag by his rodent responsibilities.