It has been ages since I managed a post, mostly because we have been loafing around the High Offley/Norbury Junction area, I think they must still use smoke signals around here because there is no mobile 'phone signal. Even by hoisting my dongle up on a pole until it was six foot above the boat produced nothing. So here's a quick resume of our doings.
Then into Woodseaves cutting, a far different place to the green dingle alive with birdsong that it is in summer.
We stopped at The Anchor for the weekend and then meandered down to Norbury Junction where we had arranged a hire car for a couple of days so we could get to a supermarket for our final stock up for Christmas.
We also took the opportunity to nip into Newport, the nearest town, which we had never visited.
We also nipped off to have a look at a church we have passed several times by road, near the M54.
Well, having stocked the food cupboard, returned the car and been ready to settle down for the holiday the oven chose that moment to go belly up. After frantic 'phone calls, much searching of t'internet and one or two turns of purple language Simon, of Norbury Wharf, located a suitable replacement. Needless to say the one we had was no longer in production. It was delivered on the Thursday and Mick fitted it on Friday morning, hows that for service? Chrissie dinner was rescued.
Back to The Anchor, we settled in and Friday night had an evening down the pub. Christmas Eve I started coughing, Christmas Day I was in the grips of a savage attack of man 'flu. Boxing Day the same and it is only now that I am returning to my normal happy go lucky self.
Here is my cough cure:
Take a half pint glass, put in it the juice of one lemon, two teaspoons of honey, two teaspoons of glycerin,(Make sure it is medicinal glycerin, it it has the word nitro on the pack reject it, it has a totally different effect),
and some rum. Top up with boiling water, add more rum to taste. Drink it good and hot. Trust me, it works.
There are many misconceptions about man 'flu, the ladies, bless them, use it as a derogatory term, they do not realise the medical facts about it. When a woman contracts a rhino-virus or an influenza virus it is bathed in a gentle wash of oestrogen and is inclined to sit around chatting about handbags and The X-Factor and occasionally feeling duty bound to gently tickle a nearby mucus membrane. However, when us chaps are attacked by these organisms they are immediately immersed in testosterone and become huge monsters with shaven heads and Doc Martin's, covered in tattoos, wandering around in gangs shouting "Here's a mucus membrane, let's give it a right kicking" and so, alas, we males suffer so much more. However in our usual stoical way we accept this and carry on with ne'er a moan.
We are in Gnosall at the moment, our daughter Cairstine came up for the day with her other half and their offspring. They brought up our pressies, I got a bottle of 1919 Angostura rum, perfect nectar, it will not be going in the cough cure. We had lunch in The Navigation and caught up on the news. A lovely day.
Tomorrow it's back to The Anchor for New Year, now there's a surprise. This does mean that we will be incommunicado again for a while, I hope you don't miss us too much.
HAPPY NEW YEAR.
Watch this space..............