I saw this the other day as I was walking up the hill ... ha ha! Complete with duck bath mat and marble effect wall covering!
The following day, someone had ripped off the seat, used it and thrown a fag butt in for good measure...
Thursday, 18 February 2010
Tuesday, 16 February 2010
Nothing runs smoothly living on a boat...
Well, we went away for the weekend, to visit my dear friend Angel and the kids in Hereford. It was such a lovely weekend, a trip to Hay Bluff, ice-cream in Hay-on-Wye, game playing, violin playing, movie watching, heart-shaped breakfast in bed on Sunday, such a relaxing time albeit too short and despite missing the coach on the way home and them having to drive us to Gloucester we came back feeling refreshed and happy - until we got onto the boat and it was FREEZING - the Heritage stove had locked out.
Argh! What was the problem, it couldn't possibly be lack of fuel could it? I mean we'd put around 250 gallons in, surely that was enough for two weeks? Well, it seems not, for we couldn't get it to restart when we pressed the reset button and we were told not to press it more than 3 times without calling an engineer and at 10pm on a Sunday night, Valentines at that, we thought it was best to try and research Heritage stoves on the internet, have a little argument about what to eat, bought on by being too tired and cold, then fill up our hot water bottles, make up and snuggle down to sleep, wearing pyjamas on top of our underclothes, then a hat and scarf on top of that, with the top blanket tucked in above the pillow.
Jam had to be up at 5.30am for work and he recommended I stay in bed, even texting me later in the morning to make sure I was still resting and keeping warm.
Of course, I had a little lie in, the squirrel was obviously requiring me to rest a little more, but then the urge to eat and go to the loo overtook and I had to get up. I made some tea, another hot water bottle, then after calling both the coalboats to find out when they were next stopping by (week today) and the chap from the next lock where there's a diesel station, (no answer, left a message, no reply) I decided I would take the 25L fuel can that Jam had bought home the other week and fill her up to at least work out if it was a fuel problem.
The first garage I came to they wouldn't let me fill up for it wasn't in their recommended 5L fuel canisters, and were quite rude to me - what I should have done was fill up then go and pay for it and they wouldn't have been able to do anything about it and probably wouldn't have noticed, but I carried on and decided to walk along the canal to the diesel pump at the next lock. However my way was soon barred by workmen who are building a new bridge across the canal and I was sent on a detour past another garage and around the back of Kings cross. I decided to go to the lock first, for diesel would be much cheaper there, because you don't have to pay so much duty on domestic use only. As me and Jerry (well I feel like I'm walking the family dog by now) approach the gates I see a few people leaving, one of them towards me on a bike. I half recognise him from the previous times we went to fill up when the canal was frozen over and stopped him to ask if the chap that could fill up for me was there. No came the reply, and the man was late for work and couldn't do it himself -PLEASE my inner voice is yelling out to him, I'm pregnant and it's no fun living in a fridge without any hot water or means of cooking food and keeping warm, OKAY I hear myself saying, I guess I'll try and fill up at the station back there, the other one wouldn't let me but I'll beg them. Cheerio, come on Jerry...
I walk boldly up to the pump, fill up Jerry, wheel him to the door, then pop in to pay. No. 6 please. 'Do you have a nectar card?' Whoop whoop, that's more like it, of course I do, thank you very much, what a nice man, have a nice day and Jerry and I skip home, well, not quite skip for Jerry's quite heavy now, but lucky that Fluffer left me her sack trolley when she went off down under and it's not too difficult to get back, wheel down the steps and Jerry has a fancy catch so you don't have to unscrew the whole cap and can just pour through a tube thing - glug glug glug, I go back inside and try to reset the burner again. Nothing. It's time to call the engineers.
The Heritage stove company is a small company based in Cornwall. By now I know the names of nearly everyone working there and speak to J who tells me S will call me back when he's finished with his client. A few hours pass and I call again, anxious to try and get it sorted so we don't have another freezing night. No such joy, the message is passed on but nobody calls me back. We're slightly more prepared for tonight though, rescuing our electric blanket and big flat heaters from Ithaka boat and using the stove over there to cook dinner, sausages, sauerkraut, steamed parsnips and brussel sprouts. Sleeping with an electric blanket makes such a difference!
Poor Jam though in the morning has to wash in cold water, whilst I stay sleeping in the warm bed. I arise and call the stove company and am immediately put through to S who is very apologetic, had a bereavement in the family and didn't get chance to call back, so we run through some settings and button pressing and low and behold the burner fires up. This is great news, not for long though, the stove one goes out, so I have to wait five minutes then reset the stove burner three times and hope for the best. I do the washing up with hot water. The stove burner lights then the heater burner goes out, but they're just going out - the green button going off and not locking out - where the amber button comes on, so I call back, but S is with a client so I'm told he'll call back. I manage to get a hot shower. Both of the burner on buttons are now off. They seem to be coming on and off intermittently.
This is a photo of the Heritage stove - my friend LLG took it as we were just moving in.
I'm still waiting for the call. I can't believe that it takes 20-25 litres a week to heat the stove and 35-40 to run the radiators and hot water - that means huge diesel bills (especially if you run out and have to get it from the garage) and they say that is efficient!?! I'm baffled, there must be a better way...
Argh! What was the problem, it couldn't possibly be lack of fuel could it? I mean we'd put around 250 gallons in, surely that was enough for two weeks? Well, it seems not, for we couldn't get it to restart when we pressed the reset button and we were told not to press it more than 3 times without calling an engineer and at 10pm on a Sunday night, Valentines at that, we thought it was best to try and research Heritage stoves on the internet, have a little argument about what to eat, bought on by being too tired and cold, then fill up our hot water bottles, make up and snuggle down to sleep, wearing pyjamas on top of our underclothes, then a hat and scarf on top of that, with the top blanket tucked in above the pillow.
Jam had to be up at 5.30am for work and he recommended I stay in bed, even texting me later in the morning to make sure I was still resting and keeping warm.
Of course, I had a little lie in, the squirrel was obviously requiring me to rest a little more, but then the urge to eat and go to the loo overtook and I had to get up. I made some tea, another hot water bottle, then after calling both the coalboats to find out when they were next stopping by (week today) and the chap from the next lock where there's a diesel station, (no answer, left a message, no reply) I decided I would take the 25L fuel can that Jam had bought home the other week and fill her up to at least work out if it was a fuel problem.
The first garage I came to they wouldn't let me fill up for it wasn't in their recommended 5L fuel canisters, and were quite rude to me - what I should have done was fill up then go and pay for it and they wouldn't have been able to do anything about it and probably wouldn't have noticed, but I carried on and decided to walk along the canal to the diesel pump at the next lock. However my way was soon barred by workmen who are building a new bridge across the canal and I was sent on a detour past another garage and around the back of Kings cross. I decided to go to the lock first, for diesel would be much cheaper there, because you don't have to pay so much duty on domestic use only. As me and Jerry (well I feel like I'm walking the family dog by now) approach the gates I see a few people leaving, one of them towards me on a bike. I half recognise him from the previous times we went to fill up when the canal was frozen over and stopped him to ask if the chap that could fill up for me was there. No came the reply, and the man was late for work and couldn't do it himself -PLEASE my inner voice is yelling out to him, I'm pregnant and it's no fun living in a fridge without any hot water or means of cooking food and keeping warm, OKAY I hear myself saying, I guess I'll try and fill up at the station back there, the other one wouldn't let me but I'll beg them. Cheerio, come on Jerry...
I walk boldly up to the pump, fill up Jerry, wheel him to the door, then pop in to pay. No. 6 please. 'Do you have a nectar card?' Whoop whoop, that's more like it, of course I do, thank you very much, what a nice man, have a nice day and Jerry and I skip home, well, not quite skip for Jerry's quite heavy now, but lucky that Fluffer left me her sack trolley when she went off down under and it's not too difficult to get back, wheel down the steps and Jerry has a fancy catch so you don't have to unscrew the whole cap and can just pour through a tube thing - glug glug glug, I go back inside and try to reset the burner again. Nothing. It's time to call the engineers.
The Heritage stove company is a small company based in Cornwall. By now I know the names of nearly everyone working there and speak to J who tells me S will call me back when he's finished with his client. A few hours pass and I call again, anxious to try and get it sorted so we don't have another freezing night. No such joy, the message is passed on but nobody calls me back. We're slightly more prepared for tonight though, rescuing our electric blanket and big flat heaters from Ithaka boat and using the stove over there to cook dinner, sausages, sauerkraut, steamed parsnips and brussel sprouts. Sleeping with an electric blanket makes such a difference!
Poor Jam though in the morning has to wash in cold water, whilst I stay sleeping in the warm bed. I arise and call the stove company and am immediately put through to S who is very apologetic, had a bereavement in the family and didn't get chance to call back, so we run through some settings and button pressing and low and behold the burner fires up. This is great news, not for long though, the stove one goes out, so I have to wait five minutes then reset the stove burner three times and hope for the best. I do the washing up with hot water. The stove burner lights then the heater burner goes out, but they're just going out - the green button going off and not locking out - where the amber button comes on, so I call back, but S is with a client so I'm told he'll call back. I manage to get a hot shower. Both of the burner on buttons are now off. They seem to be coming on and off intermittently.
I'm still waiting for the call. I can't believe that it takes 20-25 litres a week to heat the stove and 35-40 to run the radiators and hot water - that means huge diesel bills (especially if you run out and have to get it from the garage) and they say that is efficient!?! I'm baffled, there must be a better way...
Sunday, 7 February 2010
I feel so old!
I feel so old, the other night, our lovely new neighbour Paddy had some friends over from Ireland and I was woken at 2.30am by loud storytelling and raucous laughter. I tried to ignore it and let them get on with it, I mean it was Friday night, it's the first time we've been woken up by him but every time I dropped off again the laughter would pierce through and I'd be bolt upright again, wondering if I should say anything. It woke Jam up as well, and in the end I decided to don my dressing gown and pop out to ask them to be quiet.
The chap doing all the talking didn't hear my very polite English requests until I was screaming - Oi EXCUSE ME MATE at the top of my lungs, surely waking up all the neighbours in the block of flats above us. When he did see me, he didn't seem to understand me and mumbled something, then went back inside the boat. A few minutes later I receive a text from Paddy soooo apologetic, I reply that it's absolutely fine and it was 'just yer man with the loud voice' but it's no problem really. He promised to keep them quiet and texted again apologising profusely the next day.
I felt bad myself for spoiling their fun and being such a kill-joy, and jested with him saying actually he needed to try harder next time and I was quite disappointed in his party efforts. He laughed a lot at this and this afternoon I saw him walking down the road with a few friends and a plastic cup with a G&T in it. He asked if they'd woken us up last night, but I'd been out for the count and Jam had stayed out partying with his sister and brother-in-law, so I told him he obviously hadn't been trying hard enough but tonight could be a better effort if he's starting so early.
It did make me feel so old. Especially because I'd had to come home early from the bowling night for Jam's sister's birthday and he'd gone on to party all night with them. I did have to work today though and I am 16 weeks pregnant, really it's the perfect excuse isn't it - a friend said to me, honey you built up enough credit before you were pregnant to stay in every night, so don't worry - yes, I must remember that and maybe then I won't feel so old!
The chap doing all the talking didn't hear my very polite English requests until I was screaming - Oi EXCUSE ME MATE at the top of my lungs, surely waking up all the neighbours in the block of flats above us. When he did see me, he didn't seem to understand me and mumbled something, then went back inside the boat. A few minutes later I receive a text from Paddy soooo apologetic, I reply that it's absolutely fine and it was 'just yer man with the loud voice' but it's no problem really. He promised to keep them quiet and texted again apologising profusely the next day.
I felt bad myself for spoiling their fun and being such a kill-joy, and jested with him saying actually he needed to try harder next time and I was quite disappointed in his party efforts. He laughed a lot at this and this afternoon I saw him walking down the road with a few friends and a plastic cup with a G&T in it. He asked if they'd woken us up last night, but I'd been out for the count and Jam had stayed out partying with his sister and brother-in-law, so I told him he obviously hadn't been trying hard enough but tonight could be a better effort if he's starting so early.
It did make me feel so old. Especially because I'd had to come home early from the bowling night for Jam's sister's birthday and he'd gone on to party all night with them. I did have to work today though and I am 16 weeks pregnant, really it's the perfect excuse isn't it - a friend said to me, honey you built up enough credit before you were pregnant to stay in every night, so don't worry - yes, I must remember that and maybe then I won't feel so old!
Saturday, 6 February 2010
Winning the lottery
Last night an old friend Clark came round for supper, he's been travelling on safari with a young man he met recently and he was full of great stories. The best is by far the fact that his sister won the lottery, a whopping 2 million at that, she'd been trying to get hold of him to tell him the news but he obviously wasn't picking up the calls, then when he was at the airport he tried her, couldn't get through and left a message saying sorry he'd missed her calls, don't try again because he's boarding, unless you've won the lottery or something!
She's never had money in her life, single Mum, two kids, living in a rough estate, no idea what a private bank is or a designer label and not quite sure how to spend the money. Luckily Clark is well travelled and well off and well able to help her out, what a handy brother. The poor, (well not anymore), lady hasn't been able to sleep and has all these crazy ideas and doesn't know if she's coming or going - she's going on a short holiday somewhere hot to get her head around it all!
It got me pondering, what would I do if I'd won all that money? It would seem like you'd need to attend a course on how to handle money for starters. So much to learn about investing, bonds, offshore accounts, interest etc. I never really had any good training as a child with money. I used to earn it, my first job was as a chambermaid at the age of 12, then I'd spend it on a mint green polka dot matching skirt and top from Dotty P's and some bags of sweets - or something like that. I used to put a pound a week into a post office account. I used my money to help me through University and then went up and down into the red like a yo-yo. Following my dreams of acting and music hasn't brought me the good fortune to be independently wealthy, yet ... (go on, please BUY my album - http://www.hiddenmusic.net/ ) but you never know!
So I would often think the money you spend on a lottery ticket each week would be better off put in a savings account, yet that old saying 'you've got to be in it to win it' nags a little too. I know for sure that my child is going to have some financial coaching from the start, and it may even help me to understand it all a little better as well!
Hmmm, so if I won the lottery, I'd set up a school with Jam on the farm teaching music, art, wood-making, money skills, start a few of my own projects that are slowly bubbling away, do some travelling, treat myself and my friends to good things, oh yes and employ a tiler so Jam would never have to do it again - ah, I think he's just finished it - finally we can have a shower!
She's never had money in her life, single Mum, two kids, living in a rough estate, no idea what a private bank is or a designer label and not quite sure how to spend the money. Luckily Clark is well travelled and well off and well able to help her out, what a handy brother. The poor, (well not anymore), lady hasn't been able to sleep and has all these crazy ideas and doesn't know if she's coming or going - she's going on a short holiday somewhere hot to get her head around it all!
It got me pondering, what would I do if I'd won all that money? It would seem like you'd need to attend a course on how to handle money for starters. So much to learn about investing, bonds, offshore accounts, interest etc. I never really had any good training as a child with money. I used to earn it, my first job was as a chambermaid at the age of 12, then I'd spend it on a mint green polka dot matching skirt and top from Dotty P's and some bags of sweets - or something like that. I used to put a pound a week into a post office account. I used my money to help me through University and then went up and down into the red like a yo-yo. Following my dreams of acting and music hasn't brought me the good fortune to be independently wealthy, yet ... (go on, please BUY my album - http://www.hiddenmusic.net/ ) but you never know!
So I would often think the money you spend on a lottery ticket each week would be better off put in a savings account, yet that old saying 'you've got to be in it to win it' nags a little too. I know for sure that my child is going to have some financial coaching from the start, and it may even help me to understand it all a little better as well!
Hmmm, so if I won the lottery, I'd set up a school with Jam on the farm teaching music, art, wood-making, money skills, start a few of my own projects that are slowly bubbling away, do some travelling, treat myself and my friends to good things, oh yes and employ a tiler so Jam would never have to do it again - ah, I think he's just finished it - finally we can have a shower!
Thursday, 4 February 2010
Cleaning always takes longer than you think...
I've moved from a small boat to a larger one. Looking at the amount of stuff surrounding me you'd think I'd moved from a large one to a small one. How on earth all this stuff fitted onto the narrowboat is beyond me. Although some do say that I have a particular way of organising and sorting things out magically. Where's that magic now? I'd like it to clean the boat top to bottom please in 5 minutes!
So, I swept through, took the rugs outside, then got out the vacuum. The problem with the old boat is that it is very damp. The wood is rotten in places and I'm not sure how we are going to fix this. I'm not sure how I lived on it for so long and believe this could have been the cause of my chesty cough that would last for months each year.
I then took a trip to the shop to buy a decent mop. The market didn't have anything mop like, everything I touched in the mop department of the supermarket fell apart! So I tried a pound shop place, they had something limp and yellow, but it wasn't very appealing and they didn't have any washing up bowls, nor did they seem to know what one was, despite my dramatic actions and explanations. So I tried another shop which seems to have everything, Zebedee's, great ladies that work there, always bickering with each other in front of the customers but in a funny way. One of them saw me struggling holding lots of things (I'd found a cutlery drawer, washing up bowls, a baking tray, glasses, some tea-towels...) and she rushed to my aide and put it all down at the counter saying 'that's for the lady over there, she's pregnant' - I grinned sheepishly, then seeing nothing else bought my stuff, including a proper mop with handle that you have to bash on (I'll get Jam to do that in a minute, it didn't look like it would fit to be honest). It was a little pricey, but I had at least got what I went out for, without too much hassle and came home.
Jam was resting, he's a bit exhausted, up for work at 5.30am then always something to do on the boat - tiling, but that's another story...) so he was having a rest and I sat beside him with my book, thinking 'I'll have a little read then get on with the mopping, when suddenly my phone rang, my book was on the floor, neck cricked and dribble running down my mouth, two hours gone by, hmmm. So a quick chat, cup of tea and a tea-cake, and I'm off to do the mopping, although I may just leave it until tomorrow morning and catch up with the sorting out of this boat, or just one more chapter of Agatha Christie? I feel like I've been cleaning this boat for years!
So, I swept through, took the rugs outside, then got out the vacuum. The problem with the old boat is that it is very damp. The wood is rotten in places and I'm not sure how we are going to fix this. I'm not sure how I lived on it for so long and believe this could have been the cause of my chesty cough that would last for months each year.
I then took a trip to the shop to buy a decent mop. The market didn't have anything mop like, everything I touched in the mop department of the supermarket fell apart! So I tried a pound shop place, they had something limp and yellow, but it wasn't very appealing and they didn't have any washing up bowls, nor did they seem to know what one was, despite my dramatic actions and explanations. So I tried another shop which seems to have everything, Zebedee's, great ladies that work there, always bickering with each other in front of the customers but in a funny way. One of them saw me struggling holding lots of things (I'd found a cutlery drawer, washing up bowls, a baking tray, glasses, some tea-towels...) and she rushed to my aide and put it all down at the counter saying 'that's for the lady over there, she's pregnant' - I grinned sheepishly, then seeing nothing else bought my stuff, including a proper mop with handle that you have to bash on (I'll get Jam to do that in a minute, it didn't look like it would fit to be honest). It was a little pricey, but I had at least got what I went out for, without too much hassle and came home.
Jam was resting, he's a bit exhausted, up for work at 5.30am then always something to do on the boat - tiling, but that's another story...) so he was having a rest and I sat beside him with my book, thinking 'I'll have a little read then get on with the mopping, when suddenly my phone rang, my book was on the floor, neck cricked and dribble running down my mouth, two hours gone by, hmmm. So a quick chat, cup of tea and a tea-cake, and I'm off to do the mopping, although I may just leave it until tomorrow morning and catch up with the sorting out of this boat, or just one more chapter of Agatha Christie? I feel like I've been cleaning this boat for years!
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