More Rubbish than Usual: A Birthday, Cloacopapyrology and other stuff

Bloody hell! Snow.

Saturday morning and a dusting of snow.
Here!
In Berkhamsted.
Quelle surprise!
We don't do snow. This dusting represents a deluge of Alpine proportions hereabouts and will no doubt mean no transport and mass starvation with queues outside M and S by Tuesday. Further up the road in the Chiltern Hills, of course, it is almost Arctic and they will already be eating one another.

Should you find yourself snowed in why not try the latest craze sweeping Watford-fruit sculpture. You'd be amazed what you can do with a pineapple.

Or try some gentle exercise.

Undaunted by the weather Pam and I went for a walk near Tring which took us uphill towards Hastoe giving the view of Tring shown below. I'm so pleased we did as the day turned out glorious and despite rushing past the King's Arms in Tring had a very pleasant afternoon culminating in an excellent sea bass dinner with a bottle of Viognier from M and S where the panic buying is in full spate.
More on panic buying at the end of the blog......if you get that far.

The King's Arms, Tring

Sunday and to the excellent Greyhound at Wiggington for a lunch with chums; a birthday lunch to be exact.
If a man's life can be measured in terms of the presents he receives then I must be an odd fish.

Two bottles of wine. Good stuff and a fitting present for a budding smellier. Sorry Sommelier.
Martin Kemp's "Art in History" indicating that some of my friends (Peter and Christine) recognise my intellectual wherewithal plus my love of Spandau Ballet (Ah sorry-different Mr Kemp)
A pair of Racing Drunks from Jim and Sue who kindly drove all the way from and to London for the lunch.
Another book, "What Dogs Want" From Roy and Annie; a kindly thought, well meant but 200 pages too long
Anyway their kindness will benefit Caz, Philip and Florence who are in the midst of training Polly Patch.

Polly Patch

I commend the chapters on Scooting and Humping which are both equally tasteless.

Racing Drunks

Jim went for the fish-looks impressive

I had pork-marvellous

What a grand table. Thanks for coming.

Joe looking pleased with his burger

So good that Jaq and Les could come.

Absent friends Mac and Carrie couldn't be with us as they are sunning themselves in the Orkneys They sent me this picture which is the view from where they are staying with friend Sue.They are staying there till after Burns Night so hang on to your distillery shares.

All in all a thoroughly pleasant day which rendered me overwrought with emotion, overweight with pork and overdrawn at the bank.  I woke about 7 p.m.

Monday and more excitement. Pam to Bristol to say bon voyage to Natalie who is off to foreign parts on a new project. Good Luck Natalie.

I was hoping to take part in the monthly quiz at the Lamb but always struggle to raise a team. However Derek (in the middle)  bon viveur, damaged eccentric and all round good bloke and Bernie (in the cap) kindly joined with me to compete against Berkhamsted's Finest comprising teams of 4,5 or 6 intellectuals and teachers. Our final placing, which was, I think, 6th out of 11 teams did us much credit and had the Music round not contained at least 8 numbers from the 21st Century thus ruling us out we would have fared much better, Well done Bernie and Derek

To Matters of No Import

Are you old enough to remember the panic buying of sugar, toilet rolls, petrol?? The first two in the 70s.

Petrol  any old time. Well we seem ok for petrol/diesel at the moment with prices falling although apparently we should be feeling sorry for the fuel companies at this difficult time. My arse.
A shortage of sugar would now be met with with glee by our health overseers and I wouldn't miss it other than for the essential brewery products so essential to maintaining the NHS.

Toilet rolls however are another matter and if as I recall back in the seventies the shortage rumour was accompanied by a government minister inappropriately urging "restraint" then hoarding will occur.

• I'd hardly call squirrels panic buyers; after all thousands of years of evolution have told them that there are no nuts all winter

More importantly what happened to the old brands so popular in my youth?

Time for a few words on cloacopapyrology  (The study of toilet paper!) from the Latin cloacarum "of the drains" which sounds very much like cloak room to me.

Bronco - bet you've forgotten that one-no longer exists but what a great name for a toilet paper that ensured the nation, nay, continent (and incontinent) walked like a cowboy.

 Izal!
Do you remember Izal when it was a shiny loo paper rather than a bunch of terrorists? I wrote my first Best Man's speech (and a few others since) on Izal starting the speech by telling the assembled I had borrowed some hotel stationery. Got a laugh. Went downhill from there but got a laugh.
You could write on Izal. You can't write on today's loo paper.  No chance. Call that progress?!
It was proper paper. It wasn't particularly soft. In fact it was particularly hard.
Back in the 50's and 60's we all walked like Gene Autry and not because we were great cowboy fans..

Gene Autry

http://www.geneautry.com/home.php

Anyway he's dead now so maybe he ought to be called Gone Autry but nay bother.

Izal was considerably better than Tesco Value paper which whilst softer is undoubtedly the fastest way to get in touch with your inner self.
Not only could you write speeches, shopping lists, letters to the bank on such paper but you could print on it as well giving rise to a tradition of local authorities, government departmenta, hospitals , schools and hotels stamping their authority on it.

Edinburgh Cleansing Department

County Borouh of Luton 1970

A more appropriate use of toilet paper was to offer advice on hygiene. The most commonplace is the once ubiquitous "Council property, now wash your hands, please" but Izal at one time set such injunctions to verse, alternating the rhymes with the information that "As a health precaution this paper is medicated with Izal disinfectant". One example-

Don't leave dirty handkerchiefs about to spread infection
Soak them all in water with some Izal for protection

Hardly Wordsworth is it?

I remember being on a school trip 50 years ago when we discovered that, if we thought British paper was rough, it had nothing on the Belgian variety and by the third day my room mates Messrs Cummings and Malone and I realised the problem must be addressed. We found a pharmacie and by pooling our inadequate French we managed to achieve our end, so to speak. Molly (Malone) was our spokesman and I shall never forget his shouted "Pour le derriere s'il vous plait le Delsey"
On returning to our hotel we soon discovered there was a market for our booty which we sold at  1d a sheet to other kids who were unable to muster either the nerve or the French to get their own.

Enough about loo paper.

How about hospitals-just to cheer you up.
As mentioned last post, chum, Mike Paine has been in hospital since 8th December. Or rather -hospitals.
He's been in three and every time we get some sort of visiting routine they move him. Sometimes within the hospital, sometimes to another hospital. Fair enough; he has multiple ailments and they are attempting to sort them all. After the first move we made a point of phoning beforehand to check if they'd still got him in their tender care. Unfortunately this didn't always work. On Wednesday of this week Ady, Geoff J and I drove to the Churchill Hospital in Oxford having rung the previous evening and been assured they had him and were keeping him.

You've guessed it.

Transferred to Stoke Mandeville where he'd started his epic journey 6 weeks ago.

On the way from Oxford to Stoke Mandeville we invented a new game-Painopoly. Roughly based on Snakes and Ladders it involves throwing dice to decide which hospital you think he's in and you get points if he's still there when you arrive. Ady is an expert at the game as he's managed to attempt a visit  to Stoke Mandeville, Wycombe and Churchill hospitals to find Mike had been moved elsewhere from all three. A three pointer if ever ther was one!
I'm not far behind in that I had to visit three wards on one visit to Stoke Mandeville before I caught up with the bugger. I've only managed to miss him at two hospitals though. We have a sneaking suspicion that because he owes money to all of us for various items-underpants, pyjamas, slippers, that sort of stuff, he gets wind (don't we all) that we're coming and gets himself shifted to avoid paying.

Anyway I got a call this morning to say they were sending him home with a care package (what an horrible expression....and in my opinion an inaccurate one) and did I have keys to his house. I duly delivered them to Stoke M ( and he hadn't been moved!) and got ambushed by the Occupational Therapist. A very pleasant lady who was obviously trying to deal with a situation not of her making. To my untutoured eye the "Care package" hadn't been packaged but he's home anyway and it is our sincere hope that when we visit he's still there! All I will say is that throughout this and previous episodes one cannot fault the medical care but the co-ordination of the various agencies is crap.

Anyway look out for it in the shops by next Christmas-Painopoly.

It is Thursday,22nd January. At 16.45 I walked down towards Cowroast Lock and it was still daylight. Rejoice!
The canal has been a bit frozen this week but nothing to get worked up about and apart from discombobulated ducks no harm done.

There are few things more distressing than to find your Hampton frozen

Forgetting that the canal was frozen I turfed out the remains of my stockpot through the side hatch and watched the unsightly remains of a rather fine beef stew sat, unsunk, by the boat for two days. Ducks, swans, coots, kingfishers and gulls do not eat carrot. Despite my encouragement they declined the chance of one of their five-a-day.

 Bread that's what they eat and they seem fit enough on it. With a thaw the carrot sank this morning....totally ignored by the fish who don't bother with five-a-day either. Good job their not in charge of a "Care Package".

"Still Rockin"

 Below Cowroast Lock I spy "Still Rockin", owned by Carol and George whose blog I have followed ever since I photographed their last boat "Rock'n'Roll from SS Great Britain in Bristol

http://wbstillrockin.blogspot.co.uk/

Rock'n'Roll in Bristol

Time to turn in as soon as I've published this blog.  As mentioned above the days are getting longer which always cheers the soul, I've had a brilliant birthday week-thank you everybody-and the Mighty Fulham have won three games in a row. As I said at the beinning "Quelle Surprise"

Goodnight everybody. Keep rocking.

A Quiet Start to 2015...........

I know Christmas is over but indulge yourselves by going to this link.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIj5wye5Gd4

Good wasn't it?
After the excitement of Christmas and New Year January has settled  for a quieter life, a skinter life, a life full of coughs and colds, a life of people talking up and then breaking resolutions, a wetter, windier,darker life. Well that's mine anyway. The worst manflu ever effectively put paid to various activities, not the least being hospital visiting, Friend Mike Paine is now in Churchill Hospital, Oxford and Monday, 12th, was my first visit of the New Year. I rang the ward before going as they have the habit of moving the old boy, not just from ward to ward  but to different hospitals. Mike's in his third since Christmas. Perhaps he should have got sponsorship. Anyway I asked if it was ok to visit and they said could I wear a mask. I asked if this was because I might still be infectious from the manflu. "No, it's because you're bloody ugly"
Pleased to report the old boy was in much better form than when I last saw him, stronger, a better colour, more conversation. Perhaps I should visit less.

So a quiet time leading up till 13th which was my 68th birthday and a time for thanksgiving. I am grateful for the many cards and thank both the people that sent them. I am having a small lunch with a few chums at The Greyhound, Wigginton on Sunday to celebrate, believing as I do that birthdays are good for you. The more you have the longer you live.

The day started well with a bright sunny morning and scrambled egg with Pam-not on the same plate-whilst I opened my cards. By midday it had clouded over and my healthy walk through Wendover Woods looked less appealing. So a quick tramp round the reservoir at Marsworth and lo it did verily chuck it down. From there to The Greyhound to confirm numbers for Sunday. Fewer this year-usual reasons.

Deep Joy. Met up with Mike G from the moorings along with Les and Jaq off Valerie. They were out for a ride round the countryside to relieve marinaitis and joined me for one in the Greyhound. And they are coming on Sunday so I booked for 14. Happy Birthday!!!


To Zaza's with Pam for dinner via the Lamb for an aperitif or two. Excellent chicken livers on crostini with delicious gravy followed by sea bass.All with a very potable White Rioja.
 Home knackered and stuffed.
Happy Birthday indeed! Wolves away in the third round of the FA Cup and Fulham win on penalties. On my birthday. Brandy!!!!!!
Part of my birthday present from Pam is a night out at the Theatre Royal, Windsor to see Tom Conti in 12 Angry Men. Looking forward to that.

To other matters...................................................................................

Strange........
The last posting on this meaningless blog was, according to Google, viewed 134 times in the first couple of days.  Now assuming nobody visited twice (and why the hell would they?) then that's 134 people with a very high boredom threshold who were hoping to glean some entertainment or info from my ramblings.That assumes of course that the majority didn't just click on the link, whinge "Oh Gawd, not him again" and head for the bar.

Whenever I finish a posting I have an internal argument with myself-who else?-as to whether to send a link via email to people like you, conscious that to do so entails a degree off presumption on my part that a person of your sophistication might be even a jot interested. Quite often I leave people off the mailing list as I think they wont be interested in that particular posting or they've never indicated that they've ever read the bloody thing or, damn it, I think it just aint worth the stamp.
On this last occasion I emailed 48 people advising them of a new post. So where do 134 come from?

Well, here.

United Kingdom 78

France 25

United States 21

Canada 3

Spain 2

Poland 2

Germany 1

Guernsey 1

Russia 1

total 134

I know people in Guernsey. I know people in Canada and Spain.

But I don't know anyone in Russia or Poland or Germany. Who are they? What possible interest can this blog be to them? I assume the Russian interest to be something dodgy and soon will hear from "Svetlana" offering me untold favours in return for oodles of roubles. The Poles and the German I don't know about but I suspect it makes little sense to them. Perhaps some Warsaw hacker is intrigued by the possible connection with distant relative, Woytek Wellardski , the undercover agent who first discovered the Enema Code, the cracking of which hastened the end of the war by wreaking incontinence amongst the German High Command. The consequent shortage of paper meant Adolf H was unable to pen the note to his favourite General  "Ich denke, sie werden auf der Fähre von Dover kommen cupkake" ** .and the rest is history. Perhaps that's the reason for the German interest as well. Always bad losers.

**"I think they'll come on the ferry from Dover, Cupcake"

25 from France-better than we manage in the Eurovision Song contest- although they do have a fine canal system so possible interest there. Their canalling is more sun-drenched and gin soaked than ours which is mainly just drenched and soaked. We also lack the canalside eateries-well we don't-generally they're just rubbish.

That leaves the Americans. If any of the 21 Americans would like to contact me and tell me why they are looking that would be grand. Are they 21 different people -or is it one sad case living alone in a one room apartment in dowtown Manhatten with an ageing copy of Waterways World and my blog for vicarious enjoyment of our wonderful canal system.

The Cut.

Back to the Canal. On the boat I have two main forms of heating. A diesel fuelled stove which runs a central heating system and two solid fuel stoves for separate cabins. Bored already. Good.

As mentioned I have since the advent of 2015 had a cold. Obviously being a man not any old cold but a life threatening consumptive TB ridden cold. So I've spent more time aboard Independence feeling sorry for myself (though noble about not passing it on to others) and using more central heating than usual. Plus too weak and enfeebled to light the solid fuel stove. I was therefor very pleased when the coal/diesel/gas boat arrived to refill my empty tank. 155 litres which will I hope get me through till February. 

The service provided by Jules and crew really is top notch and greatly valued by the boating fraternity throughout the Winter. Support them even if you live in a one-roomed apartment in Downtown Manhatten or even Abbey.

On the moorings we now have snowdrops and the first signs of daffodils which are the precursor of Spring. The days are getting longer by two minutes each day and it wont be long before the ducks, coots, swans and rabbits are at it like knives. Plus, and it's a big plus, I had a visit from my local Kingfisher. Always a treat he/she (I've never got close enough to tell) perched on my tiller arm whilst I crept up on him/her. Amazingly despite my years learning how to be stealthy whilst living with the Cree he/she heard me coming and buggered off. Next time boyo,,,,next time.

The Christmas tree is returned to the moorings for another year in my tender tree hugging care. You will notice one bauble remains which I shall not remove.

Indeed I notice a lot of leftover Christmas decs around this year; bits tinsel on bushes, the odd light on the front of a house, even the George and Dragon in Northchurch has all its icicle shaped lights still up. Perhaps the last landlord took the ladders. Perhaps with all the bad news about people are hanging on to a little bit of magic. I can't say I blame them.

Talking of pubs I may well have to move moorings sometime soon as both my locals have gone downhill, the nearest The Cowroast Inn, amazingly worse than under the previous tenant which I didn't believe possible. The other being the G an nd D is ,I hope, only in temporary custody of a management who seems to think the constant noise of the tv, no matter what crap is on, makes a suitable accompaniment to the juke box. Both pubs have, in the past, had a good reputation for food. Neither would appear to be bothered about encouraging lunchers or diners and in today's climate will fail. I suspect the G and D is due a refurb. I do so hope they don't mess up a decent village pub. I am not confident. The dreadful Punch Taverns really are a shower.

In the meantime the moorings are very soggy with all the rain and in places the path resembles the Somme of 100 years ago. Our first casualty broke a wrist last week going over not as a result of a Jerry sniper's bullet but the slipperiness of the mud. Best wishes Max. I must dig out the correspondence with CaRT regarding their intentions to repair the path either themselves or through our voluntary efforts.

The weather tonight is cold, wet and very, very windy. No matter- inside the boat as I'm warm as toast with a prawn and squid stir fry on the go. No tv though as the wind keeps blowing the signal away, probably because the dish is mounted on the roof and the boat is rocking from side to side. Love it. But as there is bugger all on anyway it's turned off, G and D please note. 

A tornado in Wales and an hurricane in Cornwall would suggest we have offended the gods. Muslim weather it's called. Sometimes Sunni sometimes Shi'ite.

Godson and Great nephew James is 19 this week. Where did that year go!? He has put off uni for a year and is off to play rugby for a season in New Zealand! All arranged by his club and all he needs is food and beer money for which he has a work visa. When I was 19 I went on a football weekend to the Isle of Wight.  I think I was sick on the ferry....Doesn't have the same ring to it somehow. Good luck James. Enjoy.

Who knows I might get a reader in New Zealand....

Thursday and another bright start though snow is forecast. Today is tidy boat day, then a walk and a visit to Oxford to see Mike P in hospital in company with Geoff J.
But first a healthy breakfast of porridge with cherries....
                      ...she loves me!

Bye bye......or Cherrio!

Happy New Year!

A good Christmas? Oh yes, a very good Christmas. Plenty of the necessary and good company in abundance. Shame about some of the silly headwear.

Christmas Eve and the tree by the boat is looking very good. The ceremony of the peeling of the sprouts takes place on Christmas Eve -along with all the other veg- and then we normally adjourn to the Lamb for a couple which we did with Natalie and Ollie before they went rampaging round the town causing mischief.
While we were in the Lamb my specially designed cctv captured Santa wandering down a neighbour's path

You see what I mean about silly headwear.

Christmas Day and after church and breakfast and rousing the less enthusiastic it's again to the Lamb where I took this Elfie

The pub opens at 12 children

Pam joined us for Prosecco and silly pictures. The Lamb was quiet for Christmas Day but very jolly. A few people I've met since said they didn't go because it gets so busy!

The landlord Phil embraces his manager Anton......

........and Anton has to admit his bisexuality to his girlfriend

Chucking out time

Back to get the dinner sorted with Pam in charge-a first class meal resulted.

with occasional help

A Grand Spread

Then some dancing-apparently dancing with your grandmother is considerably less embarrassing than with your mother

And more silliness

and a Natnap

At Last-Presents!

I don't remember what was going on here but I think it's a touching mother, son and mobile phone picture

Boxing Day was a late start then preparations for the "At Home" for neighbours and friends tomorrow. In the evening to Richard and Ali's rwo doors up for drinks and snacks. Very pleasant. Not all their offspring were convinced by the photo of Santa on their drive but the camera never lies.
The following day Pam entertained guests through the afternoon-and one of them late into the evening. A very civilised end to Christmas.
Caz, Philip and Florence joined us for the afternoon and went back to Faversham in the evening taking Natalie and Ollie with them


Sunday 28th.
To Kent and the wonderfully named village of Boughton under Blean. Avid readers will both recall that on last year's trip tp Leicestershire I was moored near the village of Barton in the Beans! Great names.
We  booked into the White Horse Inn and then drove to Faversham to meet up with the others and leave Joseph with them.
Back to the White Horse for dinner next to the fire. Very good.

Monday. After a full English (with modifications,) we set off for Herne Bay for a decobwebbing walk on the front. As with Kent generally I've never been to Herne Bay before and despite the sharp wind and surfeit of amusement arcades I rather like it. Not sure if I'd like it in the Summer but felt it was representative of the seaside resorts of my youth with the pleasing hangover of Victorian and Georgian architecture.

It even has a bandstand!

and a pier

and a memorial to aviatrix Amy Johnson

Pam tries wing-walking

The Divers Arms on the seafront at Herne Bay. The absence of an apostrophe suggests that it is a place of varied upper limbs rather than a pub frequented by a diver or divers

With that unanswered thought in our minds we set off for Whitstable and another walk along the front to the Old Neptune. The last time I did this walk back in October I was seriously discomfited in the sacro-illiac joint which did detract from the pleasure but this time it was much better; a fascinating stretch of seafront encompassing converted cottages, seafood stalls, restaurants, galleries and groynes. I've oft heard it said there is much pleasure to be had in the groynes of Whitstable and Herne Bay which was once known as Hernea Bay and boasted a Truss House

The Old Neptune is obviously a busy pub all year round and we had arranged to meet the others who were coming by train from Faversham. They serve Harvey's beer which I like muchly( but the car meant one pint) and excellent fish and chips.

Natalie (though I'm not sure where the extra arm came from), Philip, Florence, Caz , Joseph and Pam

Hang on ...where's Ollie?

Well, apparently he'd travelled, unwittingly, on the same train from Faversham but his phone was flat and he couldn't contact us. Poor chap had wandered round Whitstable, had found my car but not the pub.

A shame.

Me, looking wise. So the camera can lie.

A Shelfie

Leaving the rabble in Faversham Pam, Joseph and I returned to the White Horse Inn where an excellent salmon dinner and a game of Scrabble rounded off a good day. They even let me win which was some compensation for Fulham managing to lose 0-2 at home to Brighton. To bed-for a while-because some eejit decided to have a crafty smoke and set the fire alarm going. Back to bed. A full day. Back to Berkhamsted tomorrow.

Sunrise at Cowroast Lock-New Years Eve.

To Pete and Judy in Leighton Buzzard for dinner in the evening with Chris and Claire, Mike and Mane and Alan. An excellent meal accompanied by much wine and followed by even mucher Champagne. To bed about two a m  I think.

A thorn between two roses

May auld acquaintance.....

Happy New Year!