Canal Mania!

I loved history at school. However when I did my GCSE's the Industrial Revolution was far less exciting and glamorous as the word revolution would suggest. Townshends Four Course Rotation and Abraham Darby I, II and III. And then there were canals and canal building which at the time seemed boring as hell. Lets be honest its hard to get fired up about something that, back in its day, was probably the equivalent of the brand new M1 being built.


Over the last few months I have been exploring the local canal network here and I am learning a greater appreciation for canals outside their decline as a transport network.

There is a thriving community living on the water. Not all the boats admittedly are in great repair but some of them have some gorgeous features about them :)

Some people are fantastically inventive. This is the first, fully towed garden I've ever seen. Genius.

The wildlife :)

A mixture of different pasts co-existing together. For some reason I have a thing for WWII pill boxes and I am lucky that Wiltshire have plenty. There are two alone on this short stretch of canal.

The little helpful details. Brick footings to help you push. And boy do you need it those lock gates are heavy! (we assisted a lady that day who was doing her second ever lock!)

The tranquility. A slow pace of life. Sounds very enticing although I am not sure I am cut out for minimalist living in a tiny narrow space.

If you're like me and aren't quite lucky enough to live right in the sticks....a home on the water can give you some amazing views :)

And what would life in the UK be like without the ubiquitous pub :) Nice to see even life on the canal means you don't miss out on your favourite tipple (J2O that day) and a pigs ear for the dog.

Long may canal mania live on :)

Red, White and Blue

The time has come to emerge from the closet.
I cannot hide it any longer.
The urge to be myself is overwhelming.
I personally blame it on the bunting.
Here goes. I am a Royalist. I have succumbed to the lure of a Jubilee tea party*. I tell myself it's for the pups benefit but I'd be lying.

Generally my motto is less is more. I decided to ditch that for this weekend ;)

Some hastily scribbed notes about food. Parties for me are all about the food and since you already knew I was a lists girl are you suprised I wrote one? I thought not.
As you can see we don't do fancy. After all pups won't think it's a party if it doesn't cater for their immature tastes. When asked Pup1 declared he wanted crisps for his party food. Nothing else just crisps. If anyone has the answer to broadening the taste buds of a child with autism I am all ears. Thankfully I have a fair idea of what Pup1 will eat and will bung a bit extra on his plate so no need to call Social Services just yet.

I love bunting. Just as well I bought enough to hang inside as well as out. Inside the lounge Union flag mania reigns supreme. Note I referred to it as Union flag. My first boss was an ex Navy man and would staunchly reprimand us for referring to it as the Union Jack. Old habits die hard. Who knew it was only to be called "Jack" when aboad a ship? According to this site my old boss is mistaken but I'll humour him for old times sake.

Thank you Aldi for you cheap as chips mugs. Just perfect for what we Brits do best. Sit on our butts and drink tea.

Enjoy the Jubilee bank holiday, whether you're a Royalist or a Republican.

*I say party, it's basically myself, my Husband, the Pups, the cat and the dog. When questioned I had to inform Pup1 that it was unlikely that Killer Cat would actually be attending. Cue much crestfallen face pulling and "awww" noises. In order to boost the numbers I've invited my parents and their puppy too. So perhaps not a party in the traditional sense but not sure the Pups would understand "soiree" or "gathering" so a party it is. Lets just hope they don't expect party bags too........

Remember, Remember......

Remember, remember the 5th of November
Gunpowder, treason and plot.
I see no reason why gunpowder treason
Should ever be forgot.
Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes
'twas his intent
to blow up the King and the Parliament
Three score barrels of powder below
Poor old England to overthrow
by God's Providence he was catch'd
With a dark lantern and a burning match
Halloa boys, halloa boys, make the bells ring
Halloa boy, halloa boys, God save the King
Hip hip hoorah

I see Bonfire night as a bit like Marmite. You either love it or you hate it. More so if you have pets of a nervous disposition. Add to that peoples inability to show respect for their neighbours by letting of fireworks with the noise level of a howitzer after midnight and you can see why the love/hate relationship exists.
I however love it but then again I do love my English traditions. My Aunt lives in a village whereby the local residents had a flaming torch procession to the village green before reciting the poem and setting the bonfire alight. Bit too "Wicker Man" for some but I love the fact that the passing of 400 years isn't enough to fade the memories of our country's history.

This rather fabulous pile of bricks is a short drive from where we reside

(pic taken from Wikipedia)
It is to this house that some of the co-conspiritors fled. Coughton Court (pronounced Coe-ton) is a National Trust property and is still inhabited by one of the members of the Throckmorton family who I believe have had the house since the 1400's. Pretty impressive that they've managed to hang on to it for so long!

If  you're celebrating Bonfire night then stay safe. If you're not then turn up the TV or the radio and hope it's all over soon. We shall be celebrating with some fireworks in the comfort of our own back garden.

Apologies for the lack of blogging lately. It's been a funny old week with motorbike accidents involving Mr Bitsy (thankfully he's OK but been off work all week), bit of soul searching jobswise and some consideration of my spirituality and where it lies.
Conclusions are I am to become a SAHM and that I am officially a Pagan. Week of discovery I think.