Photos of my new granddaughter

My son Alex and Catherine his wife sent me these photographs of Penelope May, which they have since shortened to Penny, sometime ago but owing to my internet signal being so weak it is only now that I have been able to post them. Hope you don’t mind me indulging myself.

I think she is gorgeous though I’m not too certain who she looks like at this time in her sweet life. I do know that she will be well loved by all the family.

 

One of the first pictures

 

How sweetly she sleepeth

 

Awake and taking everything in

Market Drayton

At around midday today we arrived at the little town of Market Drayton, the two little ships still in close formation in spite of the five Tyrley Locks that led us down after a long spell on the top summit of the Shropshire Union being very busy with queues of three deep in both directions.

 

Woodseaves Cutting on the Shropshire Union Canal .…

 

…. Looking more like a South American Jungle

 

A landslide

 

Tyrley Top Lock

 

Foxgloves and roots

 

A contented fellow… And so he should be on the canal

 

With such an amount of traffic as this, one could expect that at this time of the day there would be plenty of visitor moorings available in the town. But obviously all the traffic was passing through only as it became more disappointing that nothing was available right the way through the town until we arrived at the water point, where there was barely enough room for just one fifty seven footer, without being accused of tying up on this temporary only mooring.

But it was this or probably nothing and as I was ahead of ‘Roots and Wings’ in ‘Futurest’ I edged past and out into the canal again to see through the next bridge hole if there was anything available further on. If not I could reverse quickly back into the spot before some other eager boater nicked the space for himself. Then ‘Roots and Wings’ could breast up on the outside of me. Not the ideal solution but okay temporarily until someone else moved on.

Luckily there was another space just beyond the bridge and having let Janis know that she had a mooring available beyond the first bridge by means of our very useful walkie-talkie sets, I set off through my bridge and onto the further mooring knowing that she would be okay near the water point.

We were very lucky as no other moorings were free and I needed to visit the local post office to collect some forwarded mail.

When we were in Stafford during the Olympic Torch Ceremony, I somehow lost my phone and having obtained a replacement there, afterwards I had to get my network provider to forward a new SIM. They would only send it to my ‘home’ address so Alex my son had to send it on to a forwarding address. The post office at Market Drayton was it.

The letter was waiting so now all I have to do is set the phone up and still find all my old contacts hopefully.

The rest of the town was dead with all the shops being closed as if it was early closing day. But on buying some gingerbread (‘cows’ in particular if it’s important), because legend has it that this town is the originator of this confection, the lady who served us said that everybody had closed up in order to see the England v France match on the television!

Goodness gracious! What is the World coming to?

Wightwick Manor

Today the duo of little ships is at Brewood (pronounced ‘Brood’) on the Shropshire Union Canal at the visitor moorings within a long reach of tall Beeches and Oaks on both sides.

Just a little sunlight is normally let in at this time of the year  through the small gap where the tops of the trees, abundantly waving and swishing in the fresh breeze almost meet and with a tall grey stoned ornate bridge at each end of the three or four hundred yards stretch, ‘Futurest’ and ‘Roots and Wings’ sit stem to stern very snugly in this natural form of tunnel.

But today there is very little daylight being filtered through the leaves let alone sunlight to sparkle on the water as one might hope, as the rain is beating down furiously from a very leaden sky while the wind leaves all kinds of tree debris on top of our roofs. Yesterday was even worse as the two little ships battled through the driving rain to arrive here in the early afternoon.

All of us had had enough by then as the rain had not let up during the week at all.

On Monday we finally left our comfortable rural mooring at Laches Bridge, from where we had been to visit ‘Moseley Old Hall’. It was raining then, but only lightly on and off, and always optimistic we decided the Sun would stick his head through the cloud layer eventually.

We arrived at Autherley Junction at midday in continuous light rain and though we wanted to enter the Shropshire Union Canal eventually, we had previously decided to venture a further two and a half miles down the Staffordshire and Worcestershire Canal in order to visit ‘Wightwick Manor’ another National Trust property.

So in the early Monday afternoon we tied up to ‘tin’ in the middle of the pound between Compton Lock and Wightwick Mill Lock while it was still raining hard and on Wednesday we went off to explore the manor house.

Standing in extensive grounds the home of Theodore Mander, of paint manufacturing fame, was built in 1887 to look, very convincingly like a black and white Tudor mansion and both Janis and I, in spite of the weather, found it all quite breathtakingly beautiful. The wife of the  the last owner, the descendant of Theodore, was a great collector of art especially that of the Pre-Raphaelite Movement and she and her husband owned many paintings and sketches by these artists as well as having most of the rooms decorated by wallpaper and wall coverings designed and made by William Morris.

It was wonderful and we were pleased we had made the effort to get there.

Still raining heavily yesterday on and off, Janis and I in the morning, took our ships down through the lock and turned around just above Wightwick Lock for the return journey to Autherley Junction.

Here we found it very busy with a queue on the Shropshire side right back beyond the water point, which is where we intended to fill up our tanks. There was nobody actually using the facility for what it was designed and luckily one by one we both managed to stick our noses into an available chink to get alongside briefly for taking on our water.

Then it was plain sailing, in spite of the rain which was now continuous and heavy, for the last five miles of the journey here to Brewood. Today we are enjoying a relaxing day, though the weather has shown little improvement. But we have had our friends John and Barbara from ‘Baljon II’ visiting earlier. It was a delightful surprise and lovely to see them again.

Moseley Old Hall

On Saturday afternoon last, the two little ships tied up near Laches Bridge on the Staffordshire and Worcestershire Canal. It was a splendid  mooring deep in the Staffordshire countryside with just Water Forget-me-nots, clinging Common Vetch and tall Stinging Nettles, acting as their host, as very close neighbours to our starboard sides.

The moorings were so rural that they hadn’t been used as such for some time and I had to find my shears and do some gardening before I could even reach the interlocking steel edging of the canal, which Janis and I affectionately call ‘the tin’ now. We had to pull away great clods of rooted flora  in order to thread our mooring chains through the gaps made by the cross steel section.

But it was a safe mooring and very quiet.

The following morning in continuous light drizzle, we trudged about a mile across a wet bridle path into the small village of Coven to buy necessary provisions. But in spite of the weather the walk was most enjoyable as well as exhilarating and the little Co op shop was as busy as one would expect late on a Sunday morning.

In the afternoon we dug out our folding bikes (mine stows under my bunk when not in use) and we enjoyed, in spite of the rain, even heavier now than in the morning, and, avoiding the large puddles (or perhaps small floods) pedalled along narrow country roads the three or four miles to Moseley Old Hall.

This is another National Trust Property, a farmhouse built at the end of the sixteenth century and is famous for hiding Prince Charles (later to be Charles II) for two nights from the Parliamentarians after his defeat at the Battle of Worcester. It was owned by a Roman Catholic family who had a resident priest living with them to practice the now illegal Mass. Hence they had a priest hole where the would be king was able to hide at one point when the house was searched by Cromwell’s men. Floorboards were placed over the hole and a privy (a Tudor toilet) was placed on top. This made the hole almost perfectly safe as the smell emanating from it should have put anybody off searching any further here.

 Unfortunately the Tudor wattle and daub, wooden framed exterior was so badly deteriorated by 1962 that it all had to be refaced with red brick, which has removed some of the original charm when viewed from the outside. But the interior is almost entirely unchanged so none of the magic allure that a house of this age induces is lost.

On a beautiful day the occasion would have been perfect as Janis and I could have wandered through the extensive gardens as well. As it was we had to be content with peering through one of the small Tudor windows at the beautifully trimmed and trained short box hedges in the ‘Knot Garden’. We took other photos but unfortunately the internet signal here is too weak to transmit them as well as the text. I shall post them later on.

 After the viewing we enjoyed a cup of tea in the little café before facing the rain on the way back home.

Fender and Frolics

On Tuesday morning after our weekend at Stone, I took ‘Futurest’ into Great Haywood Marina to have a bow fender fitted, which has been missing since the Claydon Flight on the South Oxford Canal back in early April. I hadn’t seriously missed the fender, managing to avoid mostly close quarter situations, including lock gates. But it certainly didn’t look right without a fender on the bow.

The old tip cat fender that had been there from the start had lost its top chains at Claydon and was of no further use and it had always seemed to be slung too far down the stem to be of any use anyway. It was ideal for lower damage against lock cills but was no use in keeping the nose protected and it was forever getting caught under the plate at the bottom of the lock gate in an empty lock, putting the chains under continuous stress.

So John at Marine Services welded a new lug on top of the nose and we now have a button fender in a much better position to prevent damage.

 

 

The new fender

 

The job was completed within a couple of hours and having re-acquainted ourselves with the staff and other friends that we had made during the course of our stay three years ago when we had a full outside paint job, we moved to moorings back out on the canal and moved off at about eight the following morning (Wednesday).

The weather was beautiful still as the two little ships entered the Staffordshire & Worcestershire Canal and progressed at a leisurely pace through Tixall Wide and onto the lock. It was good to be clear of the continuous Great Haywood traffic and jostling for the busy water point and moorings. We had been there for long enough.

We were in the country again and it was beautiful.

 

‘Roots and Wings’ exiting Tixall Wide

 

Herons high in the tree

 

We passed through Tixall Lock but the traffic in both directions meant that we had to wait our turn. ‘Futurest’ went through first which meant that ‘Roots and Wings’ next in line travelling westwards had to wait until the boat waiting at the top of the lock had passed through in the opposite direction. But with me tootling along at tick over revs, Janis was able to catch up with me by the time we arrived at Bridge 101, called St Thomas Bridge.

 

Moored at St Thomas’ Bridge, the nearest point to Stafford

 

We had covered all of four miles since leaving Great Haywood but we decided to moor up here with our chains on the steel and spend the afternoon visiting Stafford.

On this north westerly point of the the Staffs & Worcs Canal, the old Stafford Coal Canal, which ran right into the town, had been connected. There were still traces of the filled in lock at the blocked up entrance and it was encouraging to note that there had been recent activity to clear the site for excavation.

It’s a mile and a half into the centre of Stafford so Janis and I followed the footpath and spent the afternoon there.

 

The Dog Rose

 

As well as shopping we witnessed the arrival of the Olympic Torch through the town. The weather was superb for such a day and the deep crowds collected early along the route. Because of this we couldn’t see too much of the actual torch though other entertainment was well received and cheered by the crowd.

 

The arrival of the Olympic Flame

 

However the event was a unique occasion which had been a very pleasant surprise for us and all part of our continuing adventure.

Penelope May

Last Sunday I received some very wonderful news.

My son Alex phoned to tell me that Catherine his wife had that day given birth to a daughter, Penelope May. She was quite BIG at 9lb 4oz, but apparently was very beautiful, which I am so sure is very true. Both mother and daughter are well and he was due to fetch them home from hospital the following morning.

He told me that he had been there at the birth and was feeling very emotional about the whole event. It is their first child and the birth is, from my own experience, the most important part of their lives so far, so I can imagine just how he feels. I remember so well the same emotions when my daughter was born as if it was only a few years ago, though it has to be  considerably longer than that now of course. I can also remember being present at the birth of Alex himself. How quickly time flies and life speeds past in just a flick of a moment.

Congratulations Catherine and Alex and to Penelope May as well.

May the darling little girl be blessed with a long and fulfilled life and true happiness. 

Coincidentally, short of five months she has been born exactly one hundred years after my mother.

The Weekend at Stone

By Friday afternoon last Janis and I had visited and been over the whole of Shugborough Hall and its ground and all the suitable walks around Great Haywood. Our legs had taken us in all different directions.

On that Friday too Gareth the engineer from Burton upon Trent, whom I had called on arrival here, had been out to remedy the screaming alternator fan belt that he fitted for us earlier and had been deafening us now for a couple of days. He fitted very quickly an adjustment bar and a shorter fan belt and we’ve experienced no bother since though we have yet to test it on a full passage.

But as ‘Futurest’ was not booked in for work at the Marina until Tuesday morning, it gave Janis and I the weekend ahead with no particular plans. So we decided to take a run in one of our boats from Great Haywood up to the largish town of Stone, about nine miles to the north, and bring her back again on Monday, ready for ‘Futurest’s booking on Tuesday. The weather forecast was most suitable for the trip with hot continuous sunshine in a cloudless shimmering blue sky.

‘Futurest’ in bright sunshine is totally self sufficient with the help of the solar panel on her roof. Even with the 12 volt fridge working normally there is more than enough electricity produced for her batteries to remain fully charged up, whereas the panel on ‘Roots and Wings’, with the little ship’s  inverter running continuously for a 240 volt fridge, fails to produce enough charge over a full twenty four hour period and the engine needs to be run as well in order to compensate.

 

Salt Bridge

 

So we decided to take ‘Roots and Wings’  and safely leave ‘Futurest’ to her own devices at her mooring.

Janis came up through Haywood Lock with her ship at around eight o’clock on Saturday morning and I met them at the already busy water point complete with wash kit and windlass.

 

The Slalom on the River Trent at Stone

 

However soon we were on our way as were lots of others and though we had to queue at each of the four locks along the way, it was not an unpleasant passage and because of the number of people always eager to help at the locks, my windlass was completely superfluous during the whole time and never used once.

 

Burston Village Pond

 

We arrived at about lunchtime and managed to find a single mooring space on the busy canal, just below the Star Lock and adjacent to the Westbridge Leisure Park, the wonderful green space that also includes the meandering River Trent. Along the river became one of our walks while we were there of course, and we watched the anglers in the river and the paddlers on the kayak slalom. All seemed to be happy and invigorated by the balmy air in the early evening sunshine.

Saturday was also our shopping day and we trailed through charity shops and hardware stores looking for different items that we thought we needed as well as stopping at a little tea shop just off the pedestrianised High Street for a leisurely and well earned cup of tea.

We had an early night ready for a food shop at Morrison’s the following day.

After this we had had enough of the hustle and bustle of the town and decided to move in the afternoon three miles to the south to a more  rural spot at Bridge 86, very close to the small village of Burston and it was here that we stayed on Sunday night.

We arrived at around midday again with the weather still perfect. So before very long we had decided on yet another walk using the country footpath system.

 

Red Campion

 

The village was small and very quiet and for once the church was open. St Rufin’s was very small. Victorian in age it looked rather more like a Methodist chapel than an Anglican parish Church. But it was quiet and cool enough for contemplation which was important.

Unusually a lone long tailed Tit was flitting and hovering with a great deal of expertise among the small flies just above the surface of the village pond and was grabbing one here and capturing one there with ease in his quick and eager little mouth.

After watching him from a seat for sometime, we had a lovely walk in the country over rustic little used stiles, through knee high hay fields and across green meadows grazed short by timid but resentful looking sheep and very inquisitive cattle whose sheer size and close proximity made us feel uncomfortable sometimes.

 

A Country Walk

 

Then four miles later and safely back at the ship, after a good hearty pizza and salad meal, we had an early night ready for a good start back to Great Haywood today.

The canal was just as busy on the return journey after we had left the mooring at 7 am. and we soon quite suddenly came upon the entrance to Great Haywood Marina and by midday were tied up starboard side to, on the north side of the road bridge just above the water point and the junction.

‘Futurest’ was just as I had left her with her batteries fully charged and, I could feel that she was eager to be off somewhere; anywhere; soon.