We started today by wandering down to the Gongoozlers Rest
for breakfast. A proper cafe on a narrow boat.
It is now under the splendid management of Avril (ex The Old Plough) who provides a breakfast that defies normal stomach capacity and probably makes the arteries go clang. Not to be missed on a visit to Braunston. Our next aim is a couple of days at one of our favourite country moorings at Flecknoe.
The sunken motor just beyond the puddle banks is still there
although the butty appears to be having a reunion with some equally decrepit friends. Can B.W. explain why these unlicensed wrecks remain here?
He's still here, the Flecknoe phantom farmer, we left him in this field last autumn and he is still haunting it, will he go on unti midnight again? Who knows.
This was Marmites reaction when she found there were no extras (gravy, meat scraps or something similar) on her dog food. Poor thing, we treat her so badly. If it was an Olympic sport she could sulk for Britain).