Lockdown day 29 - Every picture tells a story...

so they say, and I think this one simply tells of a boat at mooring. It tells of a boater with a tidy mind, organised, particular.

In fairness to reality, this next picture will say nothing to you without a sound-track. To me, it tells the tale of my coffee ritual being disturbed by a loud, repetitive sound, loud enough to push past my earphones and the music they were playing to me. I paused the music, stood up and looked around. I recognised the sound now; a ukulele being strummed confidently through the same four chords over and over again.Turning in the direction of  the disturbance, I took this photo. I know who it was. I think he sang to his accompaniment from time to time, and was clearly enjoying himself. Good!

I sat down, unpaused my mp3 player and turned up the volume.

Looking out across the water from my pontoon perch, I cast my eyes across the many trees that line the far side of the canal. They're beautiful. I love trees. They're in bud and early leaf now, but I love them when they're bare and skeletal, too, perhaps especially when they're dead. This picture brings to mind my art lessons when I was at the Grammar School.

I was twelve years old, in the First Year, and Mrs Harris was my art teacher. Now, I'm no artist. I'm the one who had to pull out of a family game of Pictionary because Grace thought my drawing of a shoe was a cauliflower. (Naomi took my place, and the two of them went on to win.) Grace is the artist of our partnership. So you can understand my dislike of art lessons.

This came to a head, however, when the lovely Mrs Harris took the class out onto the school field one sunny day and told us to draw a tree of our choice. That would have been bad enough (I was anxiously looking around for a simple one; small perhaps or, better, reduced to very little by a lightning strike), but the problem got even worse when the mad woman told us to draw it "by drawing the spaces between the branches"! I don't think I actually wept tears, but it was touch and go for the entire, totally unsuccessful hour.

(I have since found a tree that I could probably draw quite well, though it wouldn't be by the "paint the gaps" technique.)

The story of this one is very simple on the face of it. But there are nuances for me. The story is of life on a narrowboat, a simple life and a largely peaceful one, often in places of great beauty. But the subtext is about distancing, isolation, restriction, uncertainty, sadness, and not a little anxiety. And we're not alone in this, of course. Many are far, far worse off.

What picture would tell your story?

Take care.

Lockdown day 25 - Books and blogs and bits and bobs

I think I've reached an age where my train of thought often leaves the station without me. Today, this is the result.

BOOKS
I'd far rather that this pandemic had never happened, of course, but I'm wondering if the social distancing and shut-down are the reason for a sudden spike in my book sales. People are turning to books to ward off boredom, perhaps. Several other Kindle publishers are thinking the same thing. So, if you're in need of a good book to get carried away with, please try my latest.

They chose a narrowboat, and canal life changes things.

It changes people, too. And dogs.

"Buy it, especially now in these stressful times. It will transport you to a world where self-isolation is a real pleasure." (Valerie Poore)

Valmarp

5.0 out of 5 stars A wonderfully wistful and rather beautiful novel

Reviewed in the United States on 22 March 2020

Verified Purchase

I was lucky enough to Beta read this book, but I loved it so much I bought the 'improved' version on publication and have read it again. It's a wonderful story of a journey on a canal with a dog, but that is in part allegorical because it's also the story of the journey of a couple's relationship, with each other and with their dog. It is full of lovely dialogue, beautiful canals, charming, colourful characters and a totally gorgeous spaniel. I can recommend it highly for anyone and everyone: boat lovers, dog lovers, character driven novel lovers and simple old fashioned story lovers. It's set on the English canals, where life is as wonderful as it can be. Buy it, especially now in these stressful times. It will transport you to a world where self-isolation is a real pleasure.

And/or take a look at my previous ones in the Kindle Store.

The writer of the review above is Valerie Poore, herself a blogger and prolific writer of books, and you can find hers in The Kindle Store, too.

Her BLOG, largely about her life in a Dutch barge in Rotterdam, can be found here. Enjoy!

My BLOG... oh, you're reading it.

(That was the books and blogs bit. This is the bits and bobs...)

I've signed up to Foodsmiles St Albans' One Plant Promise, a challenge to grow this year at least one plant to eat. Grace planted Nasturtium seeds in a trough at the front of the boat, and the first shoots have burst through. When they're fully grown, every part of the plant can be eaten, especially as part of a salad. I'm a little anxious now that I've discovered that "Nasturtium" is Latin, and means, quite literally "Nose twist"!

The breeze on the Marina pond under the late-afternoon sky yesterday...

and the same water this afternoon with no wind.

And these are just snaps I took while I was doing the longest possible walk around the marina site today.

Before I finish this, I'll go and see if there's a sunset...

There was!

Lockdown day 23 - Easter togetherish...

I've started to feel that my long walks along the local towing-path and footpaths may not be entirely in the spirit of the social distancing rules, which sometimes use words that suggest not going very far, though such reminders are far from consistent. Still, I want to do what's best for everyone, so my walks are now confined entirely to the marina. It's a big site, so I can cover several miles if I don't mind the scenery not changing very much. At the very least, I can stride down to the gate and back, touching the gate as if to claim the full distance before about-turning. This involves a hill - okay, a bit of an incline - and a decent pace raises my heartbeat quite satisfactorily.

Grace and I did that walk yesterday morning. The air was thick with birdsong; so many different birds, and all so insistent.  The warm weather was pushing towards hot. Trees are in flower, the sky was clean and the air sweet. It was great to be out.

We joined Dagnall Street for the on-line Easter service, shorter than "normal", but very uplifting and challenging, and much of the rest of the morning I spent at my pontoon-end seat, reading, writing, listening to music, and often simply thinking, contemplating, and enjoying the quietude.

Grace prepared a superb traditional Easter dinner; the lamb we'd bought from the farm was top class. On this day last year we had Easter lunch with the kids at The Three Horseshoes in Winkwell. We were cruising, and they drove out to meet us there. This year, they ate together, we ate together, and we all met up later on Skype, and that made the day for us.

Karolina's with us, but she's behind the camera.

Lockdown day 11 - Planning made easier

I'm not even sure what number day this is in the whole social distancing thing, but today I'm going to start using this blog as a bit of a log of our journey through this word-changing epidemic. I'm sorry if that bores you readers, but hey, you might find bits of it interesting! I'll look back at it in a few years time, maybe, and be proud that I didn't go mad from inactivity and under-stimulation.

Firstly, a visiting swan not keeping to the 2 metre distancing rule.

Since January 1st I've been using a bullet planner. Unlike a diary, it looks ahead and helps me to use my time well, and not to forget to do things - important or otherwise. At the start of the year, I listed all those things I could think of at the time that I wanted to get done in 2020. Some would get done in the first week, some of them are to do with with next Christmas. Some of them are related to the house, others to the boat. As new things come up, they go onto this "Future Log".

At the start of each new month, I refer back to the Future Log and take entries from that to put in the month's Task List. At the start of each day, I create a list of those things on the Task List that I want to do (and can do, depending on weather and other external factors) on that day; at the end of the day I tick off the ones I've done and refer forward to the next day the ones that remain, and they will appear among the next day's entries. Any number of them may get referred forward several times, but that simply ensures that they get done as soon as possible.

Naomi (eldest daughter) has been doing this for years, and swears by its power to improve your productivity. Last year, I read the book about it that she had bought, but I wasn't attracted to the idea. Then she showed me exactly how she uses hers, and I was won over straight away.

Of course, the journal can be used for all sorts of  other things, too - recipes, details of films seen, books read, ideas you've had for writing, blogging, growing, making things... It's very versatile, and it really works for her, and now for me, too.