Thursday, 18 June 2009


We had three intruders along the bank in the early hours of this morning. Somehow they got in the gate with a motorbike (which turned out to be stolen). The first I was aware was when I heard the bike motor past the bedroom window. I must admit I have a sneaking admiration for the audacity of their little adventure - I just wish they'd use their skills in a more constructive way...S called the police ( must be on first name terms with them by now) and, inevitably the miscreants had long gone by the time they arrived - leaving their stolen motocycle abandoned - engine still running - at the gate which they had thoughtfully propped open for the quick getaway that did in fact transpire. Not sure at this time whether anyone along the bank had anything stolen but how this troublesome trio managed to get through the gate in the first place is a bit of a mystery.

S had an appointment this morning. Hope it goes OK. And I'm on the train to the delightfully named Didcot Parkway - for a meeting with a supplier in Abingdon. Just pulling in to Reading.

On the 16.47 back to Paddington. The weather has taken a turn and its blowey and raining. Feeling a bit fatiqued after this morning's falalla. Looking forward to getting back to the boat and cooling down with a wash and change of clothes. S has been signed off by the doctor until the end of the week.

Now sampling the delights of the Hammersmith and City line during the 'rush hour'. A cartoon man with chisselled chin, no. one haircut, aviator sun glasses and the obligatory stubble chats to a girlie girl. Oh, and he has an i-pod nano - of course. Lime green. Probably gay. No I take that back. The effect is spoiled by what appear to be ill-fitting asda jeans and a sky blue oxford shirt that is far too small. Amateur dramatist..

And on to the Victoria Line. I get a seat! Ha Ha! More obviously commuters on this train. A bit of Polish chatter and a few with their heads in the free-sheets. Still too hot in this bloody thing and sleepiness is really creeping up on me now. Looking forward to my walk along the river - but not the hike up the stairs at Tottenham Hale now the escalators are being refurbished and out of action.

Loads of people get off at Finsbury Park and my marks and sparks chinos are sticking to my legs. Next station is Seven Sisters where seven sitters stand up and get off. I counted them.

S was on the boat when I got back but was complaining of a really bad headache. We listened to a bit of radio four, talked of the days events, had a mug of tea and then walked down to the marina to get rid of some rubbish, do our bit for re-cycling and empty the two small briefcase potta potties.

S was sick in the river on the way back and was obviously distressed. She was sick again when we got back to the boat and headed straight to bed. But surfaced a few minutes later and was sick over the side. I taped up the bedroom bulls-eye as now she was complaining of a migraine. I was worried about her as her health has taken a downward turn over the last three weeks or so - with symptoms like a cross between a persistent cold and hayfever.

But all is quiet now and S is sleeping. I'm writing this sitting in the front doorway of the boat as the light fades and the laden trees are vibrating in the wind. The wind turbine spins fitfully with the ebb and flow of the breeze. It's a few days away from the longest day but this evening it feels like autumn.

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