Still alive.

Made it as far as Suttons Stop despite rain and gales, getting the bus into Coventry tomorrow for Christmas shopping. Not our favourite city but handy for shopping.

Rugby to All Oaks Wood.

We shopped out Tescos and yesterday headed for Brinklow, weather wasn't too bad at first but the clouds gathered and for the last half hour it hurled it down, our happiness was made complete by the way the prop kept getting clogged with dead leaves, we arrived at All Oaks Wood (Why is it called that? it's mostly beech trees) well soaked and thinking how we love autumn.

The dredger was working on the bridge hole at bridge 35, I put the photo' in just to prove BW does actually dredge sometimes, bless 'em.

Beef on the hoof.

Well we have finally escaped from Braunston,new cratch cover fitted and hopefully no more work to be done for a while. We will miss Avril in the Old Plough but otherwise.....? We have got as far as Rugby, weather is absolutely foul but no trip is without its interest. On the way we passed a field with some Old English Longhorns, these are the original English cattle but are now an endangered species, they don't meet the demands of modern agriculture.

This is the old man, a ton or so of beef on the hoof, a real handsome fellow.

The two cows have really different styles of horn

and the young heifer is trying to catch up.

These are the cattle that were the mainstay of agriculture in the middle ages, the castrated males (oxen) even pulled the ploughs and wagons, horses were only for the upper classes, too costly for peasants. Let's hope the breed survives.

The gas man cometh.

Just like Flanders and Swan, twas on the Monday morning the gas man came to call, except we were getting too much gas, red hot oven, frazzled nosh, guilty party, the thermostat.

This is the new one!

Here is the nice man fitting it, we now have an oven that works, hooray. How do we survive the excitement?

Some time at Flecknoe.

having become bored with Braunston we moved out to Flecknoe for a couple of days

on our favourite mooring, the field opposite now green with winter wheat.

After two days of howling gales and pouring rain this pair took up residence on our roof, every time we opened the side hatch a little head would peer over the edge of the roof in hope of a morsel of bread, we did give in occasionally and feed them.

On the way back to Braunston (new oven thermostat and cratch cover fitting) we passed this sorry sight, the gale had blown them off of their usual mooring and fifty years of neglect took its toll. I suppose BW will end up footing the bill for removal.

Still at Braunston!

Today we had an engine service, topped up with water and stayed at Braunston, the oven thermostat has gone on the blink and we are awaiting the arrival of a new one, being sent post restante to the post office here, then we have to find someone to fit it, oh joy. By the time that happens we will be due back here to have the new cratch cover fitted, Braunston seems to have a magnetic attraction for us, I swear we will not come through here next year!

Willoughby.

We were still at Barby yesterday and as the weather was pleasant we decided to walk out to Willoughby on local footpaths, this was a mistake as the local footpaths, so lovingly recorded on ordnance survey maps, were, to say the least, obscure.The local farmers appear to have taken great delight in plowing over them and padlocking the gates along the way. Being intrepid explorers we made it to the village with each boot weighing a ton, the local clay is rather clinging!

Needless to say Willoughby has a church

and a pub, The Rose, which was open but, to be honest, was not up to scratch, five out of ten.

Next to the pub was the old school, now a private house, and a playing field exclusively for the village children under sixteen years of age. We walked back along the towpath

and passed the old signal again.

Why does my mind keep wandering to Yorkshire Pudding?

Today we moved back to Braunston as tomorrow we're being measured for a new cratch cover, more excitement.

Barby.

Having seen the weather forecast we have moored up at Barby but there is no sign of her or Ken.

There is however a very large prison.

If you are prepared for a three hour walk there is a church and

a pub, unfortunately we got there too early and it was not open, curses.

We also found a wonderful gate standing alone in the middle of the track, no fence, nothing

Except a sign.

British Waterways say it is fine and not collapsing, we all believe them of course, they wouldn't tell us porkies would they?